"Oh… then I'm very sorry, Ancient One… my little request might trouble you quite a bit~" Jack Kadere said flippantly, his usual smirk curling at the edge of his lips. "Can you use your green one—yes, the Time Stone—to help me pinpoint the exact moment when Morlun descends upon this universe? I've been having some very odd tingles in my Spider-Sense lately, but I can't determine when it will happen."
The Sorcerer Supreme's wise eyes glimmered, her expression calm yet playful as she countered, "And why, child, should I help you?"
"Helping me is helping yourself." Jack's confidence was unshakable.
"You might not believe me when I say this, but my Spider-Sense isn't ordinary. It always picks up strange, inexplicable things." He leaned forward with a mischievous grin. "For example, I already know that my relationship with you in the future won't be shallow. At the very least, we'll end up as close friends, right?"
The Ancient One allowed herself a quiet chuckle and gave a small nod without denial. With a flick of her fan, her form shimmered back into that of a venerable elder.
"Child, the answer you seek lies on June 1st."
"June…?" Jack nearly choked at the thought. "Children's Day? Cough—uh, first!?"
He wanted to ask more, but before he could, the ever-playful Sorcerer Supreme had already stepped backward through a swirling portal and vanished, leaving only a trace of incense in the air.
Jack stood silently for a while, mulling over her cryptic words. June 1st? Was she serious, or just teasing me again?
[Hmm… given her temperament, it's probably both. A half-truth wrapped in a playful riddle.] [No… when Stephen Strange eventually takes her mantle, I'll have to knock some of that mischief out of him.]
...
"Hmmm…"
Felicia Hardy was curled up sound asleep, her silver-white hair spilling like silk over the sheets. The soft tips of her cat ears twitched slightly against Jack's chin, brushing him with ticklish white fur. Unable to resist, Jack reached out and stroked them—warm, pink at the skin, tender to the touch. Addictive.
As the saying goes, absence makes the heart grow fonder. He leaned down and stole another kiss from Gwen Stacy, who lay beside him.
"Little Spider~" he teased softly. "You're extra enthusiastic today. Did you miss me that much?"
Protected by the Absolute Mind Shield, Jack and Gwen could share subtle emotions back and forth—not direct telepathy, but impressions: sadness, joy, longing. And today, Ghost-Spider's emotions were filled with a bright, bubbly happiness.
"It's not just that…" Gwen admitted shyly. "I'm graduating. Dad agreed to let me move in and live with you."
Jack smacked his lips. That means fewer stolen nights, but much more time together. A fair trade.
Jessica pressed her cheek to his shoulder, chiming in, "It's great that Gwen can finally stay… but we're running out of room, Jack. There really aren't enough bedrooms here."
Jack frowned thoughtfully. "Hmm… looks like we'll need to move back to Sunnyvale Manor. Gwen, has your father— George Stacy—already found a place near there?"
The blonde beauty nodded. "Dad actually picked it out a while ago. He's just been waiting for you to make the move."
" Stacy is thorough, as always…" Jack's smile softened as he gazed at Gwen. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you properly."
"Ahh~ I'm so sleepy…" Gwen yawned cutely, turning over to hug Felicia instead. "You go stay with Jessica tonight, Jack. And be quiet, okay?"
With that, Little Spider and Little Cat curled up together and drifted off.
"Ah! Gwen, that's cheating!" Jessica muttered, glaring in mock irritation.
...
A few days later—
"Oh my God, Jack."
With a thunderous clang, Tony Stark landed in Sunnyvale Manor in his trademark red-and-gold Iron Man armor. The movers around them nearly dropped their crates as they stared, wide-eyed, at the armored Avenger.
"You seriously had me send one of my transport planes… just for moving house?"
Around them, a team of movers was unloading priceless equipment and crates of personal effects.
"Originally, I was going to ask S.H.I.E.L.D. to lend me one," Jack replied casually, giving Tony's armor a light tap. The alloy felt tougher than the last model. "But then I remembered how they like to stick their noses into everything, so I figured better not. Maybe I should just have Skye buy us a moving company. That'd make things easier."
Tony folded his arms across the gleaming armor. "Buying an entire moving company just to relocate? That's peak Jack Kadere logic. And hey—stop tapping the suit. It's not a toy."
"In fact," Jack continued, ignoring him, "I've already bought out a private security company to handle protection at Sunnyvale Manor." He gave Tony a pointed look. "Do you wear this thing everywhere now? Ever think of just using remote control once in a while?"
"Click—"
Tony's helmet retracted, revealing his exasperated smirk. "Oh, don't start lecturing me about lifestyle choices, Kadere. You've got Spider-Women, Cat Burglars, and half the New York vigilante community living in your mansion. At least my armor only annoys me."
Jack just grinned wider, already plotting.
Click~
The shoulder plates of the Iron Man armor shifted as Tony chuckled. "You sound like Ivan Vanko. But hey, maybe you've got a point. By the way, I heard you took a trip out to New Mexico with Coulson. How was it?"
He gave a half-shrug inside the armor. "Meanwhile, Fury sent me on some ridiculous consultant mission. Wanted me to sweet-talk General Ross into releasing Emil Blonsky—aka the Abomination—so S.H.I.E.L.D. could recruit him. Predictably, Ross nearly had me thrown out of the base. The guy's temper is off the charts."
Jack narrowed his eyes. Figures. Tony's mouth would annoy anyone, especially Ross.
"If I told you we met Norse gods—well, technically aliens—would you believe me?" Jack asked with a smirk.
Tony blinked. "Gods? Aliens?"
Before he could continue, the whir of helicopter blades filled the air.
Whup-whup-whup—
Several armed helicopters descended toward the manor grounds.
Tony raised an eyebrow, his helmet flipping back down with a snap. "What now? More movers? Or is this part of your new 'security company'?"
"Not hired," Jack corrected with a calm smile. "They're mine now."
The helicopters landed smoothly. From them emerged a squad of highly trained operatives—women clad in sleek black tactical suits, carrying the latest high-tech weaponry. Their synchronized movements radiated precision and discipline.
At the forefront was a striking silver-haired woman, her combat suit gleaming metallic silver rather than black. Her expression was firm, her presence commanding.
She approached Jack, placed a hand over her chest, and bowed slightly. "Hello, Boss. This is the Silver Sable International Security Company. I am Silver Sablinova, though you may call me Silver Sable. The Wild Pack and I are at your service."
"Wild Pack?" Jack echoed.
Before he could say more, Tony chimed in, his voice dripping with amusement. "Good name. Sounds like a litter of wild kittens. Maybe I should hire myself a pack too."
Jack pressed one hand firmly on Tony's helmeted head. "Get out of here." He didn't even look at him as he gave Silver Sable her orders. "Your primary duty is to guard this manor. No one enters without my permission. The only exceptions are those I personally name—Skye and a few others. Do your job well, and the rewards I promised will be delivered."
The reward, of course, was access to Super Soldier enhancements. Nothing less could have secured Silver Sable's loyalty—her abilities and reputation already rivaled that of lesser superheroes.
Silver Sable glanced at Tony coldly. "Including Mr. Stark, Boss?"
The playboy billionaire had compared her team to kittens; she wasn't about to let that slide.
Jack's hand still pressed down on Tony's helmet. He didn't hesitate. "Of course. Including him."
"Hey! Come on, Jack," Tony protested, his voice muffled by the helmet. "We're friends, right? Give me a little credit here. At least enough to not treat me like an intruder in your backyard."
Silver Sable smirked faintly at the sight. Still, she added a warning of her own. "Boss, I assure you the Wild Pack and I are capable of handling nearly any threat. But if we're being realistic, we may not be able to stop someone on Iron Man's level."
"Oh, did you hear that, Jack?" Tony said smugly, tapping his chestplate. "Even your new mercenaries admit they can't handle me. Don't worry, though. I won't trespass."
Jack rolled his eyes and finally released him, pushing him away lightly. Then, with deliberate flair, he snapped his fingers.
Snap~
"Silver Sable," he said calmly, "come meet your colleague. From now on, your Wild Pack will handle the usual threats. But if you can't… it will step in."
Almost immediately, the ground began to tremble.
Thud.
Thud.
From behind the tall garden trees, a massive armored figure stepped into view. Its body glowed faintly, burning with otherworldly energy.
The Destroyer.
Its towering form radiated raw power, and the air itself seemed to warp from the force of its presence.
An oppressive silence fell across the manor grounds.
Tony froze, his faceplate flipping up in shock. "…Uh, buddy? Is this thing registered? Please tell me it's registered."
Silver Sable's eyes widened. Even she, who had seen her share of world-class weapons, was shaken. The Destroyer looked far more terrifying than Stark's armor.
"What the hell is that!?" A Stark Industries porter was so startled he fell flat on the ground. The painting he was holding slipped from his grasp. Panicked, he scrambled to pick it up, terrified that if Jack grew angry, he'd have the robot crush him on the spot.
"Hey, don't look so nervous." Jack waved toward the Destroyer, the enchanted Asgardian construct he had under his control. "Little Destroyer's very friendly. C'mon, Little Destroyer, make a V sign."
Obediently, the Destroyer raised its hand and extended two fingers.
Everyone: "…" […Why does your V sign look like two middle fingers?]
The bizarre scene left them speechless. Still, Jack's little stunt at least reassured everyone that the menacing robot was under his command and not a loose cannon.
"I'm starting to believe your alien story now…" Tony muttered, eyes narrowing as he studied the construct. "This 'Little Destroyer'… Don't tell me Black Spider brought it to you again?"
"You know it," Jack replied smoothly, though he added silently in his mind: [Well, technically, I brought it to myself… so it counts, right?]
"Alright, fine. I'll take your word for it." Tony didn't press further. Instead, he flew over to the fallen porter and helped him back to his feet. "Easy there, pal. It's safe here, no need to panic."
Then his gaze fell on the painting that had nearly been ruined. Tony brushed off some dust, and his eyes widened. "Whoa… Li, are these supposed to be the aliens you imagined? They look disturbingly real… just, uh, uglier."
What Stark held in his hands was none other than The Battle of New York, a painting Jack had made a year ago. Since it had fallen, the white cloth covering it had slipped aside, revealing the chilling imagery beneath.
"You could show it to Fury," Jack said casually. Times were different now, and he no longer cared if the painting raised questions. At worst, he could always toss poor Cindy under the bus as cover again.
"But listen—just let Nick Fury glance at it. If he wants a second look, tell him he has to pay me."
"You think that guy would actually be interested in this?" Tony tilted his head, studying the piece more carefully. His gut told him the painting wasn't just art—it felt like a vision. Nodding, he agreed, "Fine, I'll show it to him."
Whoosh—! With a burst from his repulsors, Iron Man shot into the sky with the painting in tow.
"Fly slower, you idiot! Don't let the wind tear it apart!" Jack called out after him.
In response, the golden-red armor wobbled for a moment mid-air, then deliberately slowed to a careful glide as it disappeared into the distance.
...
"Jack, you're too kind, even helping us move," George Stacy said gratefully.
Jack smirked. "Hehe~ Thank Tony, not me. He lent us his transport plane."
"Then thank you, Mr. Stark. He truly is a generous man," George replied sincerely.
At that moment, George and his family had just finished moving, preparing to stop by another house—the Parkers'—to say their farewells.
"Sigh… with all of us leaving, Ben and May will be left all alone," George said with a hint of guilt. "Peter hasn't been around much lately either."
Glancing at Jack, who sat in the passenger seat of his police cruiser, George continued, "Jack, what do you think about me renting out our old place in the Lower East Side? That way, Ben and May won't feel so lonely."
From the backseat, Gwen chimed in eagerly, "That's a good idea, Dad!"
But George gave her a stern look. "Gwen, I'm asking your man, not you. Don't interrupt."
"Aw…" Gwen pouted, folding her arms.
"Hehe~" Jessica, seated beside her, snickered at her friend's embarrassment.
But her glee was cut short when Gwen jabbed her sharply in the waist. "Ouch!" Jessica yelped, glaring at her.
"Hm? Jessica," George asked curiously, "do you have any good ideas? I heard you've been working as a private detective lately. That's good—it's safer than running around as some masked vigilante. Most detectives I know are sharp-minded. Care to give your uncle some advice?"
Jessica shot Gwen a death glare before smiling sweetly at George. "Uncle George, what ideas could I have? You're the one with the experience… But hey, Brother~ why don't we rent out our house too?"
Jack put his arm around the girl nestled in his embrace. Since there wasn't enough space in the car, Matilda was sitting on his lap. "If we do that, we'll need tenants with good character. The last thing we want is to cause trouble for Aunt May and Uncle Ben by mistake."
George nodded approvingly. "Jack, you're always the careful one. That settles it then. I'll leave the details to you—and I'll have Gwen help."
Jack sighed inwardly. Why is it always dumped on me again…?
…