"Heads up, guys! Soup's on!" Sam emerged from the kitchen, a massive pot cradled in his oven-mitted hands, steam curling up to fog his tactical goggles. He caught sight of the Pantoran senator and grinned. "And Riyo! Pietro dragged you straight here, didn't he? Perfect timing—we made enough to feed a battalion."
"Steve and I always cook like we're expecting an army." Natasha glided past him, her movements as precise in the kitchen as they were in combat. A platter of golden-brown pancakes balanced in her hands, still sizzling faintly. "Old habits."
Wanda's nose wrinkled as she eyed the pancakes. "Why are we eating breakfast food for lunch?"
"Peter's special recipe." Steve followed them in, carefully maneuvering an enormous pizza that had to be two feet in diameter. Cheese still bubbled at the edges, the scent of oregano and garlic filling the room. "Figured since we're all together again, we'd go all out. Make it a proper reunion."
"Look at you, Wanda." Sam set the pot down with a theatrical flourish. "You're practically drooling."
Pietro materialized beside his sister, already reaching for a slice. "Can you blame her? She's been stuck eating ration bars and whatever passes for food on Dathomir for months. No pizza. No Earth food."
The moment crystallized in Wanda's mind—one she knew she'd hold onto. The lost Avengers, gathered around a table cobbled together from salvaged Republic furniture, in an apartment on a planet none of them had heard of six months ago. They'd been scattered across an entire galaxy, yet somehow, they'd found their way back to this: family.
Imperfect. Chaotic. Theirs.
Natasha claimed the seat beside Wanda, reaching for the wine someone had procured. "Next step is finding a way back."
For a few precious minutes, they simply ate. Passed dishes. Argued over the last slice of pizza. Laughed at Scott's attempt to use his shrinking powers to steal food off Hope's plate, only to earn a fork to the knuckles.
It felt normal. Impossibly, wonderfully normal.
Then Steve cleared his throat, and the room quieted. He didn't raise his voice—he never had to. Something in his posture, the way he squared his shoulders, commanded attention without demanding it.
"Before we get too comfortable," he began, "I think we should catch everyone up. We've been scattered for months. Some of us haven't heard the full story of where the others ended up."
Rhodey leaned back in his chair, the metal creaking under his weight. "I got the garden spot—isolated military base on Rishi. Nothing but clone troopers, training drills, and absolutely zero leads on getting home." He paused, a wry smile tugging at his mouth. "Did get pretty good at sabacc, though."
"Ryloth." Pietro's usual energy dimmed slightly. "Spent weeks combing through the Outer Rim, chasing rumors, following any lead that might point to another Avenger or a way home. Found a lot of dead ends and one very persistent senator."
Riyo's cheeks darkened, but she said nothing.
"Tatooine," Natasha offered, her tone flat. "Became a bounty hunter. Kept my ear to the ground, picked up contracts that took me through major trade routes. Figured if anyone was making waves, I'd hear about it eventually."
Matt's fingers drummed against the table, tracing patterns only he could perceive. "Jedha. The Holy City. Waited. Listened. Learned about the Force, about kyber crystals, about faith in something larger than yourself." His mouth quirked. "Also learned that patience is significantly harder when you don't know if you're waiting for something that will ever come."
"I dove headfirst into Coruscant." Peter's enthusiasm bubbled up despite the somber tone. "Figured a planet that's basically one giant city had to have something—archives, tech, maybe another portal. Got really into Jedi history instead. Made some friends. Fought some crime. You know, the usual."
T'Challa's voice carried the measured cadence of someone used to choosing his words carefully. "Kashyyyk. The Wookiees offered sanctuary, and I offered what help I could. We formed... an understanding. They fight for their freedom. I respect that."
"I stayed with Bendu." Vision's statement was characteristically simple, but his eyes—brilliant and unsettling in their depth—suggested layers beneath. "There was much to learn about this galaxy's connection to... energy. To life itself."
Wanda traced the rim of her cup, warmth seeping into her fingertips. "Dathomir. The Nightsisters took me in. Taught me. Gave me daughters." She glanced at Merlin and Illyana, who beamed back. "I learned more about power in those months than I had in years."
"We covered a lot of ground," Rhodey observed, his engineering mind already cataloging, analyzing. "Coruscant to the Outer Rim. Core Worlds to Wild Space. If there was a way home sitting in plain sight, one of us should've stumbled across it."
The weight of that realization settled over the group.
Natasha's expression didn't change, but her knuckles whitened around her glass. "So is there really no way back? No magic door, no convenient wormhole?"
"Wait." Peter sat up straighter, nearly knocking over his drink in his enthusiasm. "What about a Stargate? Something like what brought you guys here in the first place? There's got to be more than one, right?"
"Send us home the same way it sent us here?" Sam's eyebrow arched. "That's assuming it works both ways."
T'Challa's tone was gentle but firm. "Peter, you weren't there when we arrived. You don't know what that journey was like. It wasn't controlled. We were pulled through, scattered across the galaxy on the other side."
"But we found one before, didn't we?" Scott leaned forward, hope creeping into his voice.
"We've stumbled into a lot of things," Hope countered, though her expression suggested she wanted to believe it too. "Ancient temples. Sith artifacts. That doesn't mean we can replicate it."
"But we could try." Pietro's fingers drummed rapid-fire against the table. "Search systematically. We've got contacts now—Republic military, Jedi, senators." He glanced at Riyo. "We use every resource available."
Wanda had been quiet, but now her eyes sharpened with focus. A piece of information, half-remembered from her studies, clicked into place like a key turning in a lock.
"Wait." Her voice cut through the building debate. "I think... I might have found something."
Every eye turned to her.
Peter blinked. "Sorry, what?"
Wanda's lips curved into a smile that was equal parts excitement and apprehension. "On Dathomir, I studied the ruins. The Nightsisters have preserved knowledge that most of the galaxy has forgotten. They taught me about an ancient species—the Kwa."
"The Kwa..." Peter repeated slowly, his brow furrowing. "That sounds familiar."
"You likely encountered references in the Jedi Archives," Vision supplied. His head tilted, processing. "The Kwa were one of the first civilizations to harness the Force on a massive scale. Their technology became the foundation for the Infinite Empire—the Rakata—who used those teachings to conquer much of the known galaxy."
"They were more interested in domination than balance," Wanda added, her tone darkening. "But their technology... it was extraordinary."
Scott held up a hand. "Okay, cool history lesson, but how does this help us?"
"Right. Sorry." Wanda took a breath, reining in her excitement. "On Dathomir, there are Kwa ruins scattered throughout the territories. Hidden places, protected by the clans. I used my powers to access some of their secrets, and I found something—something that might explain how we all ended up here."
She raised her hand, and crimson energy spiraled around her fingers. The air shimmered, and suddenly a holographic image materialized above the table—geometric and alien, yet hauntingly familiar. It resembled the Stargate logo in structure, but the symbols were different, the configuration more complex.
Several Avengers leaned forward, recognition flickering across their faces.
"This," Wanda explained, her voice steady despite her racing heart, "is an Infinity Gate. The Kwa built them across the galaxy to enable instantaneous travel between fixed points."
"Instantaneous?" Steve repeated, his tactical mind already working through implications. "You mean faster than hyperspace?"
"No travel time at all," Wanda confirmed. "Step through one gate, emerge from another, potentially on the other side of the galaxy."
Matt turned his head toward her, his sightless eyes hidden behind red-tinted glasses. "Do you know how they work?"
Wanda hesitated. "The Force, I think. Or some massive concentration of energy capable of creating stable wormholes. But..." She shook her head. "It's not simple. The Kwa fell for a reason. Their gates were dangerous, unpredictable."
"Nothing's ever easy," T'Challa murmured. "And even if we find an intact gate, we'd need to understand how to operate it. How to ensure it sends us home rather than scattering us further across space."
"The ruins on Dathomir were fragmentary," Wanda admitted. "Time hasn't been kind to them. The Nightsisters preserved what they could, but the Star Temple was sealed centuries ago. Much of that knowledge is lost."
The room fell into contemplative silence, broken only by the quiet clink of dishes and the distant hum of Coruscant's endless traffic.
Then Matt's head tilted, his attention sharpening. "Peter, you okay?"
"Hmm?" Peter jerked upright, suddenly aware that multiple people were staring at him. "What? Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"
"You were muttering to yourself." Matt's tone was mild, but concern edged the words.
Peter flushed, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh. Sorry. I do that sometimes when I'm thinking. There's just... a lot happening up here." He tapped his temple. "A lot of puzzle pieces that don't quite fit."
Steve leaned forward slightly, his body language open and encouraging. "What's on your mind, Peter?"
The younger hero's fingers began tapping an anxious rhythm against the table. He was quiet for several seconds, clearly wrestling with how to articulate his thoughts.
Finally, he spoke. "I've been wondering how we all got here. Like, I understand how you guys arrived—through the Stargate in the HYDRA base. But that doesn't explain how T'Challa, Matt, and I ended up here. We weren't at that battle. We were investigating an arms deal in New York, and then suddenly we're in space." His eyes moved around the table, searching for understanding. "It doesn't make sense. How did that happen?"
Silence.
The question hung in the air, unanswered and unanswerable.
Several Avengers exchanged glances. Shrugs rippled through the group. It was a question they'd all wondered about but had no means to solve.
"Maybe..." Hope broke the silence, her analytical mind clearly working through the problem. "Maybe we should try to find those Guardians of the Galaxy that Vision mentioned. If there's someone else from Earth out here, someone who's been in this galaxy for decades, they might have answers we don't."
"The who now?" Wanda blinked.
"The Guardians of the Galaxy," Sam elaborated, gesturing vaguely. "We met them at that summit on Mandalore a few months back. Weird group—talking raccoon, walking tree, green assassin, the works. But one of them, their leader, is from Earth."
Wanda's interest visibly sharpened. "From Earth? How?"
"Kidnapped as a kid," Natasha supplied. "About thirty-six years ago, according to him. Never made it back. By now, he's spent more of his life out here than he ever did on Earth."
"Thirty-six years..." Wanda breathed. The number staggered her. To be stranded that long, to build a whole life in an alien galaxy...
"He calls himself Star-Lord," Vision added. "His real name is Peter Quill. From what we gathered, he's adapted quite thoroughly to life in this galaxy. Hope suspects he may no longer consider himself human in any meaningful cultural sense."
"That's... incredibly sad," Natasha murmured.
"And incredibly useful," Rhodey countered, pragmatic as always. "If he's been here that long, he knows things. Has connections. Resources. If anyone can help us understand the weird spatial mechanics that brought us here, it's someone who's had three decades to figure this galaxy out."
"So we find him," Scott said simply. "How hard can it be?"
"That girl with the antennae—Mantis—she told us something useful," Sam interjected. "She said if we pay attention to chaos and major conflicts, we'll find the Guardians. They have a habit of being at the center of trouble."
Scott grinned. "So basically, we're looking for the space version of us."
"That's not as comforting as you think it is," Natasha said dryly.
"Hey, we're resourceful," Pietro shot back, his trademark confidence reasserting itself. "Wherever we go, interesting things happen. We'll find them."
"Such optimism," Hope murmured, though a smile tugged at her lips.
Steve's gaze swept the table, taking in his team—battered, scattered, but still whole. "Is there anything else we need to discuss? We've still got Ultron out there, and this war shows no signs of slowing down."
Wanda's expression shifted, something guarded entering her eyes. "There is... one more thing." She lifted her hand, and crimson energy coalesced around her palm. "Something that happened on Dathomir. Something that changed everything for me and my daughters."
Two pyramid-shaped objects materialized in the air, glowing faintly with internal light. They rotated slowly, ancient and powerful, before settling gently into Wanda's upturned palm.
Recognition rippled through the group. Several Avengers had seen similar devices before.
But Wanda wasn't finished.
She closed her eyes, and her power flared—not violent, but controlled, purposeful. The holocrons responded, their surfaces shimmering and then projecting outward.
Two figures took form above the table, spectral and blue, rendered in light and memory.
One was a woman, severe and elegant, her robes suggesting age and authority. Her eyes held depths of knowledge that felt almost predatory.
The other figure was harder to define—shifting, uncertain, as if the holocron itself wasn't quite sure how to render its creator's form.
Wanda's smile was small but genuine, and when she spoke, there was something almost mischievous in her tone—a sister showing off something precious and dangerous all at once.
"Everyone," she said softly, "I'd like you to meet my mentors."
She gestured to the floating holocrons and their ghostly projections.
"This is Darth Traya." Her hand indicated the severe woman. "And this... is Ajunta Pall."
The holocrons pulsed with ancient power, and two long-dead masters gazed out at the assembled Avengers with eyes that had seen the rise and fall of empires.
The room held its breath.
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