"What are you going to do now?" the Ancient One asked, studying Noah. "Go to Asgard and finish this with Odin?"
Noah gave her a flat look.
"Finish what, exactly?"
He let out a short breath, half amusement, half annoyance.
"If he knew he couldn't win, he could've just said that. I'm not exactly out here hunting people for sport."
He paused, then added with a shrug, "Surrender works. It's a classic for a reason."
The Ancient One didn't respond. She simply watched him, as if weighing something unspoken.
Noah shook his head. "Honestly? Not interested anymore."
The fight had lost its appeal. No tension, no uncertainty. Just a foregone conclusion.
"If he wants to sit alone in Asgard and wait things out, that's his choice."
With that, Noah turned and stepped through a portal, leaving Kamar-Taj behind.
The next day passed quietly.
Noah spent it with Gwen, enjoying something close to normal life for once. No cosmic threats. No grand strategies. Just time.
When morning came, he walked her back to Midtown High School, keeping his distance as she headed inside.
He stayed in the shadows, watching.
The school looked the same.
And completely different.
At the front gate stood a newly erected statue—cast in steel, unmistakable. A stylized version of Noah himself, long hair swept back, expression confident, almost teasing, as if the world was just another problem waiting to be solved.
Above it hung a massive banner:
"Midtown High is proud of His Majesty."
Noah stared at it for a moment.
It had only been a few months since everything changed. Since he regained his memories. Since the world started bending in strange directions.
And yet, standing here, it felt like a lifetime ago.
He turned to leave—
—and stopped.
A familiar figure stood a short distance away.
Blond hair. Slight frame. That unmistakable awkward energy.
"Been a while, Peter," Noah said, lifting a hand in greeting.
Peter Parker hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah… it has."
There was something different in the way he looked at Noah now. Not fear, exactly. But distance.
"Walk with me?" Noah offered.
After a brief pause, Peter agreed.
They moved down the street together, the city humming around them.
Peter spoke first, recounting what had happened after the Lizard incident.
Thaddeus Ross had taken him into custody. Not as a prisoner, exactly—but close enough. He'd been kept under observation, helping with research on the serum.
"The only reason it wasn't worse," Peter admitted, "was because they knew I knew you."
Noah didn't react.
"Then everything changed," Peter continued. "Once you took over… they let me go. Paid me, even. Said I should go back to school."
He let out a small laugh. "Didn't expect that."
Noah glanced at him. "So things are better now?"
Peter smiled faintly. "A lot better."
He kicked a loose pebble along the sidewalk as they walked.
"People at school know we used to hang out. After everything… I got calls from three different scholarship programs. Full coverage."
Noah raised an eyebrow. "Convenient."
"Yeah," Peter said. "That's one word for it."
His expression shifted, the smile fading.
"Something else happened," he said quietly. "A few days ago… my uncle was shot."
Noah stopped.
For a split second, something sharp flickered across his face.
"What happened?" he asked.
Peter exhaled slowly. "It was bad. Really bad. They said he wasn't going to make it."
His hands tightened slightly.
"I didn't know what to do. I just… said your name. Told them I knew you."
Noah blinked. "That helped?"
Peter nodded. "Everything escalated immediately. Police, city officials—everyone got involved. While they were figuring things out, I used what I could to keep him alive."
He swallowed.
"Then a full medical team showed up. Top-tier. They pulled him back."
Noah didn't say anything.
"The Vice President and the President even came by afterward," Peter added. "Made sure we had everything we needed."
He let out a quiet breath, somewhere between relief and disbelief.
"If not for you… I would've lost him."
Noah looked away, gaze drifting across the street.
That hadn't been planned.
Not even close.
And yet…
"Tell them I'll visit," Noah said after a moment. "When I've got time."
Peter nodded. "They'd like that."
They walked a little longer, talking about smaller things this time. Nothing heavy. Nothing complicated.
Eventually, Noah stopped.
"I've got somewhere to be," he said.
Peter gave him a small wave. "Yeah. See you around."
Noah turned and left.
Back at his villa, Noah stepped inside—
—and paused.
Someone was already there.
"Didn't expect to see you," he said.
Susan Storm stood in the living room, arms loosely folded, watching him.
"You really forgot?" she asked, amused.
Noah walked over, slipping an arm around her waist without hesitation. "Forgot what?"
She raised an eyebrow.
"The launch," she said. "Tomorrow. The spacecraft."
Recognition clicked.
"Right," Noah said. "That's finally happening."
She gave him a look. "You were pretty interested before. Still coming?"
He smiled slightly. "Yeah. Might as well see what space looks like up close."
She studied him for a moment. "Did you at least look over the materials I sent you?"
Noah shook his head. "It's space. I'll manage."
Susan sighed, though there was a hint of a smile in it.
The next day, the launch site buzzed with energy.
Technicians moved with purpose. Systems were checked and rechecked. The air carried that electric tension that came before something big.
Noah stood with the others, watching.
Nearby, Susan and her team were already suited up in sleek, dark-blue uniforms.
Noah glanced at them. "Do I need one of those?"
Susan followed his gaze.
"They're designed to protect against extreme conditions," she said. "But considering what you've survived… I doubt it'll make much difference."
Noah nodded once.
"Then I'll pass."
He adjusted his sleeves, completely unconcerned.
Above them, the spacecraft loomed—silent, waiting.
And somewhere beyond it, unseen but approaching—
Something vast was already on its way.