Cold.
Pain.
Curt Connors lay sprawled across the high school grounds, his body trembling as agony radiated outward from his abdomen.
What was left of it, anyway.
His organs had already spilled out across the pavement. There wasn't much left to feel.
A shadow fell over him.
Noah landed lightly beside the fallen man, having leapt down from the shattered library wall.
Connors' body had already begun reverting—shrinking back into human form, though one arm was still missing, and the damage to his torso was catastrophic.
Noah studied him for a moment.
At this level… I'm already more than strong enough to survive in this world, he thought.
Strength in the hundreds of tons.
Speed approaching the sound barrier.
Skin tough enough to shrug off heavy gunfire.
Regeneration.
And now, phasing.
As long as he didn't get dragged into the wrong kind of trouble, he could handle most threats the Marvel world had to offer.
He pulled out his phone.
After a brief pause, he dialed.
"General Ross speaking."
On the other end, Thaddeus Ross stood at a training ground, watching soldiers drill.
"Noah Vale? Didn't expect a call from you," Ross said. "Last week I invited you to dinner, and you turned me down."
"Been busy," Noah replied casually. "But I've got something that might interest you."
Ross took a drag from his cigar. "Go on."
"I've got a test subject," Noah said. "Live. Contained. You'll want to see this."
Ross's tone sharpened immediately. "How interesting are we talking?"
"Lead researcher from an Oscorp bio-project," Noah said. "Turned himself into a reptilian humanoid. Retained intelligence, but with… behavioral instability."
He glanced down at Connors.
"If you can stabilize it, it might outperform your current super-soldier research."
There was a pause.
Then—
"Location?" Ross asked.
"Midtown High. He attacked the school, caused some casualties, but I've handled it," Noah said. "You might want to move fast before local law enforcement complicates things."
In the background, Noah could already hear Ross issuing orders.
"Stay put," Ross said. "We're on our way."
The call ended.
Noah exhaled slightly.
Behind him, the atmosphere had already shifted.
Students were gathering.
Fast.
"Hey—hey, Noah, do you remember me?" a voice asked hesitantly.
Noah turned.
He recognized him immediately—Evan, a former classmate.
Back then, Evan had been casual, easygoing.
Now?
He looked… careful.
Almost nervous.
"Of course I remember," Noah said with an easy smile, pulling him into a quick one-armed hug. "It's only been a few weeks."
Evan's face lit up instantly, the tension melting away.
But Noah noticed it.
That invisible line between them.
Things had changed.
More students crowded in.
Phones out. Eyes bright.
"Can I get an autograph? My brother doesn't believe I go to school with you."
"I've seen all your interviews—I even preordered your book!"
"Hey, uh… my sink's broken, think you could come over and fix it?" someone added with a wink.
Noah kept smiling, slipping effortlessly into public mode.
He signed notebooks, posed for photos—
—but the crowd kept growing.
And some of them were getting a little too comfortable.
Hands brushing against him.
Shoulders bumping in too close.
The girls, he ignored.
The guys?
That was pushing it.
Noah resisted the urge to step back and instead shot Gwen a quick look from across the crowd.
Wait a minute.
She nodded subtly.
Sirens cut through the noise.
A police car pulled up, and George Stacy stepped out, already looking tired.
Then he saw Noah.
"…Why is it always you?" George muttered.
Noah stepped out of the crowd, grinning. "Hey, Captain. Situation's handled. You can park over by the main building."
George glanced past him—and immediately spotted Gwen in the crowd.
He sighed.
"Alright," he said. "Start talking. What happened this time?"
"Mutated lizard-man attacked the school," Noah said simply, gesturing toward Connors' body. "He's over there."
George followed his gaze—
Then froze.
"…Yeah, that's new."
But before he could say more—
Movement.
A group of men in black suits approached the unconscious Connors.
Noah's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Those guys yours?" he asked.
George turned sharply. "No."
He stepped forward immediately. "Stop right there. Identify yourselves."
The man at the front smiled politely and pulled out a badge.
"Agent Phil Coulson. FBI," he said smoothly.
George examined the credentials, frowning slightly.
"Even if that's legit, you don't just walk in and take a suspect," he said. "I'll need to clear this first."
Noah, meanwhile, had already caught the name.
Phil Coulson.
That wasn't just FBI.
That was S.H.I.E.L.D..
So they're already involved.
Coulson turned toward Noah, still wearing that calm, practiced smile.
"You must be Noah Vale," he said, extending a hand. "We'd like to ask you a few questions—standard procedure."
Before Noah could respond—
Another voice cut in.
"No need."
A military convoy had arrived.
At its head stood Ross.
He didn't even look at Coulson at first.
"I'll handle the report," Ross said dismissively. "You can take it up with my office."
Then he finally turned, eyes sharp.
"And this subject," he added, nodding toward Connors, "is coming with us."
Behind him, armed soldiers moved into position.
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Military.
S.H.I.E.L.D.
Police.
All in one place.
And right at the center of it—
Noah Vale.