Under the temptation of eternal youth and beauty, Pepper didn't hesitate for long before accepting this extraordinary gift from Malrick.
Wrapped in golden photon energy, she spent most of the day soaring high above the clouds, the joy in her expression refusing to fade. Only as dusk approached did she return to Los Angeles alongside Tony.
Pepper's adaptability proved remarkable. Just like the time she accepted Tony's serum enhancements, it took her only two nights to master the basics of using photon energy. The price for her rapid progress, however, was twofold: Tony's haggard, battle-worn appearance, and the destruction of his luxurious cliffside mansion.
By the third morning, the once-pristine home overlooking the Pacific was nothing more than a pile of ruins.
"You wouldn't believe how crazy Pepper is right now," Tony grumbled during a holographic call with Malrick. "She wants me to fly with her in the clouds — without my armor! I think we made a mistake, Malrick, Pepper, she— Hey! Stop, Malrick is still on the— Oh, no—!"
Before Tony could finish, a glowing arm reached into the projection, yanked him out of frame, and the call abruptly cut off.
"…Well," Malrick said from his Brooklyn apartment, exchanging an amused glance with Wanda, who was visiting to report on her Chaos Magic progress.
They both knew exactly what had just happened.
"They probably went to grab some grapes," Malrick said with a straight face. "Grapes in Los Angeles have been expensive lately."
Wanda's lips curved slightly, though a faint blush touched her cheeks. "I… think so too," she murmured. But her quickening heartbeat betrayed her thoughts, and Malrick's enhanced hearing picked up every rhythm.
After a quiet moment, Malrick tilted his head, studying her profile. "Wanda," he said softly, "don't you think the price of grapes in New York has gone up too?"
She turned toward him, confusion flickering in her eyes — and then the realization of his intent made her heart skip. "Wh-what do you mean?" she asked, voice catching as she instinctively looked away.
The more she avoided his gaze, the closer he leaned in. Her pulse raced, her breathing grew shallow, and every sound painted a vivid picture for his super hearing.
"What I mean is…" Malrick's voice dropped to a low, almost teasing tone. "Do you want to—"
"Ah! Sorry!" Wanda cut him off suddenly, eyes squeezed shut. She waved her hands in frantic denial, her usual composed demeanor shattering. It was like seeing a hidden part of her — a young woman startled by feelings she wasn't prepared to face.
She stumbled to her feet, tripping over the edge of the sofa, and hurried toward the door, hands clamped over her ears as if she could block out both his words and her own pounding heartbeat.
"I just remembered it's my turn to cook today! I—I have to go!"
With that, she bolted, even using a burst of Chaos Magic to quicken her retreat.
Malrick could still hear her racing heartbeat echoing down the street until she reached her own apartment. Then came the soft thump of her throwing herself onto her bed, pulling the blanket over her head, and letting out muffled, flustered noises.
A second later, a surge of Chaos Magic cut off his hearing entirely. She had figured it out.
"…That's not eavesdropping," Malrick muttered to himself with an awkward smile.
For the next three days, Tony existed in a strange mix of pain and bliss, while Pepper remained in high spirits.
Captain Marvel, however, was drowning in something far darker.
Since losing her powers, Carol Danvers had been consumed by a crushing storm of physical, emotional, and political ruin.
The day after she was handed over to the United Nations, her trial began. International trials often took months to prepare, but the overwhelming evidence Tony Stark provided — coupled with the unanimous agreement of the court — ensured it began almost immediately.
The proceedings were broadcast worldwide. Under the gaze of millions, Carol was sentenced to life imprisonment for treason against humanity. That same day, she was sent to The Raft.
Her escort to the prison was anything but peaceful. Crowds lined the streets, their glares sharp as blades. Twice, assassins emerged from the crowd — one firing a gun, another lunging with a knife. By the time the attackers were stopped, Carol was bleeding and barely conscious.
A hospital stay offered no reprieve. Once her condition was stable enough for transport, she was moved again, arriving at The Raft barely clinging to life.
Yet the physical wounds were nothing compared to the psychological weight.
When she was processed into the prison, she caught sight of Nick Fury through the transparent wall of his cell. For a heartbeat, hope flared in her chest. But the moment their eyes met, Fury slammed his fists against the wall.
"Carol! How could you let those Super Skrulls escape?!" His voice cracked with fury and grief. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
The words hit harder than any bullet.
"I… I didn't…" Carol's voice faltered, but Fury's condemnation didn't stop.
In that moment, she realized she had lost the last friend she thought she could count on. The weight of the world's hatred crashed down, and the air in her lungs felt poisoned by it.
Her vision blurred, her body swayed, and darkness took her.
When she awoke, she was in a glass cell under the cold eyes of guards who had all lost something — or someone — to the Skrulls. None of them needed to speak; their silence told her that every grievance against her would be remembered.
Curled in a corner, trembling, Carol finally asked herself the question that had been clawing at her mind since her fall:
What have I done?