Inside the White House—
Rodriguez stood across from Wilson Fisk, his expression unusually serious.
"Mr. Fisk," he said, "there's something I need your advice on."
Fisk raised an eyebrow. "Go on."
Rodriguez clasped his hands behind his back.
"I want to understand Mr. Vale better," he said. "Specifically… what he enjoys. If we're going to keep the world stable, we need to make sure he stays… satisfied."
Fisk studied him for a moment.
The logic wasn't wrong.
Noah's temperament shifted quickly—unpredictable, volatile. If he lost interest or got irritated, the consequences wouldn't be small.
Back when Fisk was just a crime lord, chaos didn't bother him. If anything, it made things more interesting.
But now?
Now he was responsible for maintaining order.
And if that order collapsed badly enough to catch Noah's attention…
They'd be the first to pay for it.
Fisk exhaled slowly.
"…I wish I had a clear answer," he admitted. "I don't know him that well."
Rodriguez frowned. "Think carefully. This matters."
Fisk paused, then something clicked.
"…He appreciates good-looking company," he said cautiously. "He's young. Being around attractive people puts him in a better mood."
Rodriguez's eyes lit up.
"That's easy enough."
For someone in Noah's position, that kind of thing wasn't difficult to arrange.
But before he could continue, Fisk raised a hand.
"Keep it subtle," he said firmly. "Don't make a spectacle out of it. We don't know how he'd react if it became too obvious."
Rodriguez nodded after a moment of thought.
"You're right. Start small. Work within his existing social circle first."
Fisk gave a short nod.
"Also—Noah gave an order," he added. "S.H.I.E.L.D. He wants them rounded up."
Rodriguez didn't hesitate.
"Consider it done."
Some time later—
Noah returned to New York.
His stay in London had ended under the watchful, uneasy eyes of an entire government that hadn't relaxed for a single second.
Now, the city he'd left behind was in chaos.
Parts of it were still scarred from the nuclear blast. Entire districts had been damaged, casualties mounting, emergency services stretched thin.
And yet—
The members of the Interdimensional Chatroom were still here.
They hadn't left.
But something had changed.
The way they looked at him now—
There was hesitation.
Respect.
And something closer to fear.
Noah noticed immediately.
"…What's with the expressions?" he said, waving it off. "You don't need to act like that around me. You're not the same as everyone else."
Even so, the tension didn't fade.
What they'd seen—what he'd done—
It wasn't something they could just ignore.
Tony Stark stepped forward, clearly weighing his words.
"Noah… about the broadcast earlier," he began carefully. "Don't you think your approach was a little… extreme?"
Noah looked at him.
Just a glance—
But it was enough to make Stark's chest tighten instinctively.
He adjusted his tone immediately.
"I mean," Stark continued, more measured now, "this is your world now. Shouldn't you take some responsibility? Try to be… a decent ruler?"
Noah tilted his head.
"Why?" he asked simply.
Stark blinked.
"I didn't take over the planet to serve people," Noah said. "I did it because they pushed things too far."
His voice stayed calm—but there was an edge beneath it.
"They mocked me. Planned against me. Sat back and watched like it was entertainment."
His eyes hardened slightly.
"And now I'm supposed to reward that? Make their lives better?"
He let out a quiet scoff.
"Who's taking care of my mood?"
Silence.
"If they enjoy watching so much," Noah continued, "they can keep watching. Just from their knees."
No one spoke.
No one wanted to.
Then Noah looked back at Stark.
"You think things should be better?" he said. "Fine."
Stark hesitated. "…What?"
"Go fix it."
The words landed like a hammer.
"Find Fisk," Noah went on. "Set whatever policies you want. Change whatever laws you think will help. I don't care."
He shrugged.
"As long as it doesn't interfere with me, you can run the place however you like."
Stark stared at him.
"…You're serious?"
"You had plenty to say just now," Noah replied, a faint smirk forming. "What's the problem? Don't want the responsibility?"
Stark clenched his jaw.
"…No. I'll do it."
It wasn't like he could back down now.
Running a planet?
Insane.
But so was everything else happening.
Noah nodded.
"Good. Then if things fall apart, that's on you."
Stark exhaled slowly.
"…Fair enough."
Around them, the others exchanged glances.
Just like that—
The authority to reshape the world had been handed off in a casual conversation.
It was absurd.
And completely real.
Noah turned to the rest of the group.
"What about you?" he asked. "Anyone else want in? Government positions, decision-making authority… I can arrange it."
The offer hung in the air.
No one moved.
Kana Kimishima was the first to react, waving her hands quickly.
"No, no—I'm good," she said with an awkward laugh.
The others followed just as fast.
They'd seen enough.
Power like that came with consequences they didn't want to face.
Noah shrugged.
"Suit yourselves."
He turned away, completely unconcerned.
"If you change your minds, let me know."