Inside Stark Tower, a senior manager stood before a packed room of employees.
"You're all some of the best people this company has," he began, hands clasped behind his back. "And right now, Stark Industries needs you."
He paused, letting that sink in.
"Tony Stark is the core of everything we've built. This company exists because of him. And right now—he needs internal energy more than any of us."
A ripple of murmurs spread through the room.
"So here's what's going to happen," the manager continued. "All regular work is suspended for today. Your priority is to train, generate internal energy, and contribute it to the company."
That got their full attention.
"Don't worry—you won't be doing it for free. We're buying it at double the current market rate."
Now they were listening.
"There are about a hundred thousand employees in this company. Each of you only needs to contribute a small amount. On average, it's about twelve days' worth of training."
He smiled slightly.
"If you finish early, those days count as overtime. Triple pay."
That did it.
The employees quickly did the math.
Twelve days of effort—for thousands of dollars.
Somewhere around nine thousand, give or take.
A low whistle passed through the room.
This is insane.
Internal energy wasn't just power anymore.
It was money.
A fast one.
Books were wheeled in—official copies, freshly printed.
"Grab one," the manager said, clapping his hands. "Start now."
The room shifted instantly as people moved forward, grabbing books, flipping pages, already eager to begin.
Nearby, one of the manager's assistants leaned in.
"Sir… isn't this overkill?" he asked quietly. "According to the book, a person's capacity caps out pretty quickly. Do we really need this much?"
The manager shot him a look.
"You think Stark's the only one who matters?" he said. "What about Obadiah? What about the rest of upper management?"
He gestured toward the crowd.
"And anything extra? Bonuses. Incentives. Control the supply, control the market."
The assistant nodded slowly.
That made sense.
And Stark Industries wasn't alone.
Across the country, companies were doing the same thing—pulling employees off the floor, pushing them into training, reshaping their entire workflow overnight.
Job postings changed too.
"High potential candidates preferred."
"Must be hardworking, disciplined, and willing to contribute."
The world hadn't fully adapted yet.
But it was already shifting.
Fast.
—
On Utopia—
A thunderous boom cracked across the sky.
Noah Vale landed lightly on the island, drawing the attention of nearby mutants.
Without a word, he opened his pocket space and released Xavier, Scott, Jean, and the others.
"I'll go find Magneto," Noah said. "Stay here for now."
Before anyone could respond, he phased downward, slipping through the ground and into the reinforced structure below.
Inside the safehouse—
He dropped from the ceiling, landing smoothly.
Everyone looked up.
Relief spread immediately.
"You're back," Erik said. "We saw the news. Your identity's out—and Canada just got hit with a nuclear strike."
"It's handled," Noah replied. "Xavier and the others are safe. They'll be staying here for a while."
He stepped forward slightly.
"And I've already spoken to S.H.I.E.L.D. No war for now. At worst, they know what I am."
That didn't ease the tension.
Not entirely.
Then Noah continued, outlining the Sentinel program—what it was, how advanced it had become, and what it could eventually turn into.
By the time he finished, the room had gone quiet.
Raven's expression hardened.
"They used my DNA for that?" she said flatly.
Noah didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Erik folded his arms.
"So what's next?"
Noah shrugged.
"Same as before. We wait."
He met Erik's gaze.
"Time is on my side. The longer this drags out, the stronger I get."
A faint smile crossed his face.
"Give me a year, and I'll reshape the entire board."
Confidence wasn't the issue.
Believability was.
From across the room, George Stacy spoke up.
"Why does it have to come to that?" he asked. "Does it really have to be mutants versus humans? Can't there be another way?"
Every mutant in the room turned to look at him.
The shift in atmosphere was immediate.
Raven let out a short, humorless laugh.
"You think we haven't tried?" she said. "If Noah hadn't stepped in, Stryker would've wiped us out."
Her voice sharpened.
"Go ask him about compromise."
George didn't respond.
Noah stepped in before things escalated.
"I'm not against peace," he said. "I just have a different way of getting there."
He paused.
"I'll deal with the people at the top. The rest of the world… won't need to change much."
He hesitated for half a beat.
"…Probably."
George frowned slightly.
"That doesn't sound reassuring."
"So what happens to us?" he pressed. "Are we just… staying here?"
"No," Noah said. "You're going home."
That caught everyone off guard.
"But," he added, "I need you to keep what you've seen here to yourselves."
George met his gaze.
"And you trust us to do that?"
Noah smiled.
"I do."
Inside his head—
Not even a little.
George was a cop. Loyalty to the system was built into him.
Noah knew exactly how that would go.
Out loud, though—
"I'm not the kind of person who locks people up just because they might be a problem," he said, expression earnest. "Come on. Give me a little credit."
Inside—
I absolutely am.
He looked at Gwen.
"For what it's worth, I'm doing this because I trust you."
Another pause.
"And I don't want to make things harder for you."
Gwen hesitated.
The sincerity in his voice—it sounded real.
Too real.
Is he serious?
A flicker of doubt crossed her mind.
Maybe—
Maybe he wasn't as cold as she thought.
Behind the scenes, Noah had already made up his mind.
Once they left the safehouse, Xavier would handle it.
A subtle adjustment.
A planted suggestion.
No secrets leaking.
No risks.
Clean.
Erik stepped forward, clearly unhappy.
"You're making a mistake," he said. "Humans can't be trusted. I've learned that the hard way."
Noah didn't waver.
"I've made my decision."
Erik shook his head.
"You'll regret it."
Noah just smiled faintly.
He already knew he wouldn't.