"…That can't be right," Noah Vale said, though there was hesitation in his voice.
Even he felt unsettled by the conclusion they had just reached.
If it were true—
Then what he was becoming wasn't just strong.
It was something far worse.
An opponent who couldn't be killed… and only grew stronger the more damage they took.
At that point, the only real solution wouldn't be defeat.
It would be containment.
"Are you sure it isn't?" the Ancient One asked, her smile faint but unsettling.
Noah didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he thought about something else—something he hadn't considered before.
The unused points he had stored.
They didn't affect his base attributes directly. They expanded his reserves—his durability, his capacity to endure—but didn't raise the threshold required for growth in the same way.
Which meant…
At some point in the future—
What she described might actually become reality.
Noah exhaled slowly.
"…Go on."
The Ancient One inclined her head.
"There's a second conclusion," she said. "And this one isn't speculation."
Her gaze sharpened slightly.
"It's something we've already confirmed."
Noah's attention locked onto her.
"Your growth doesn't stop at death," she said.
The words landed heavily.
"If anything—death itself becomes part of the process."
She continued calmly.
"Any form of harm—injury, suppression, even alterations to your timeline—counts as damage."
"And once enough of that accumulates…"
She let the sentence hang for a moment.
"…you reach the threshold."
Noah didn't speak.
"And when that happens," she finished, "you return."
"Restored. Stronger than before."
Silence filled the room.
The implication was clear.
Killing him wouldn't solve the problem.
It would only accelerate it.
Noah lowered his gaze slightly, thinking it through.
So even if someone erased him—
Sealed him—
Destroyed him completely—
It wouldn't be permanent.
At best, it would delay the inevitable.
At worst, it would make him stronger when he came back.
The Ancient One watched him closely.
"This is not something you earn," she said quietly. "It's something you were born with."
Noah let out a slow breath.
"…I understand."
And he did.
More than he expected.
This conversation alone had clarified everything.
"Then I got what I came for," he said, standing up.
He gave her a small nod.
"Send me back to New York."
The Ancient One studied him for a moment.
"You're not interested in learning the mystic arts?" she asked.
"Later," Noah replied. "I've got something to deal with first."
A brief pause.
"After that, maybe."
She didn't press further.
With a casual motion, she opened another portal.
Through it, the skyline of New York was already visible.
Noah stepped through without hesitation.
Behind him, the portal closed.
A moment later, Karl Mordo entered the room.
"Master," he said, glancing around, "someone was here?"
The Ancient One nodded slightly.
"A restless soul," she said. "Powerful… but impatient."
She poured herself another cup of tea.
"I gave him some perspective."
Night had already fallen over New York.
High above the city, Noah reappeared in the sky, the wind rushing past him as he hovered in place.
He took a deep breath.
Then let it out slowly.
That short visit had changed more than he expected.
Since arriving in this world, there had always been a pressure—subtle, constant.
This was Marvel's Earth.
Everything here escalated.
Threats stacked on threats.
Anyone with a brain would feel it.
So he'd pushed himself.
Relentlessly.
Two months of nonstop growth, nonstop strain.
Always chasing the next increase.
And now—
He'd just been told something completely different.
You don't have to rush.
Even if you fail… you come back stronger.
Noah let out a quiet laugh.
"…That's one hell of a safety net."
For the first time since he arrived in this world—
He relaxed.
Really relaxed.
Below him, the river cut through the city, reflecting scattered lights.
Without another thought, Noah let himself fall.
No resistance.
No control.
Just gravity.
His body dropped from the sky and crashed into the water below, sending up a massive splash.
Then he sank.
Deeper.
Slower.
Until the noise faded, and only the quiet remained.
His muscles went slack.
His breathing stopped.
He drifted downward, surrounded by darkness and the faint movement of disturbed fish scattering around him.
No thoughts.
No tension.
No urgency.
For once—
Nothing.
And in that stillness, Noah closed his eyes.
And slept.
Somewhere else in the city—
Susan Storm stood outside Noah's villa, looking slightly uncomfortable.
The door opened.
Camila leaned against the frame, arms crossed.
"Come in," she said casually.
Susan hesitated for a moment, then stepped inside.
"…Is Noah here?"
Camila snorted. "No idea. He said he was going to Afghanistan, then the Himalayas. Now he's just gone."
She shrugged.
"Don't count on seeing him tonight."
Susan's cheeks flushed faintly. "That's not why I—"
"Sure it isn't," Camila said with a smirk.
Susan didn't respond.
Morning came.
At the bottom of the river—
Noah's eyes snapped open.
He sat up slowly, feeling… clear.
Lighter.
Better than he had in weeks.
With a single motion, he pushed upward, breaking through the surface.
Water cascaded off him as he rose into the air.
With a brief surge of energy, every drop evaporated instantly, leaving him completely dry.
Onlookers nearby stared in shock.
Noah ignored them.
He pulled out his phone.
"Camila," he said when the call connected. "I didn't come back last night. I've got things to handle for the next ten days—don't expect me."
Next call.
"Fisk. Stick to the plan. I'll be off the grid for a bit."
Another.
"Mary—let Smith know. Everyone gets some time off. I'll be training."
One by one, he handled everything.
Tied up loose ends.
Made sure nothing would spiral out of control while he was gone.
Then—
He phased.
His body turned intangible and sank straight into the ground beneath him.
Ten meters.
A hundred.
A thousand.
Deeper and deeper.
The pressure built steadily around him.
Then, at a certain depth—
He became solid again.
Instantly, the weight of the earth closed in.
Thousands of tons of pressure pressed against him from all directions.
His limbs held.
But his eyes, his ears—every vulnerable point in his body—felt the strain immediately.
Still not enough.
Noah clenched his jaw.
Then began digging downward.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
The pressure increased with every meter.
Ten days, he thought.
That's all I need.
Even if the Ancient One was right—
Even if he was already on a path that couldn't be stopped—
There was still a fight waiting for him.
And he had no intention of losing.
If he could push himself further—
Even a little—
That might be the difference.
Because right now—
He wasn't untouchable yet.