The transition from the cold, sterile silence of a starship bridge to the bustling, aromatic warmth of May's kitchen was a jarring comfort. The war for Earth was over, but the scent of freshly baked cookies and the sound of his mom's cheerful humming felt more like a true victory than any defeated alien fleet. The first thing Ben did upon returning to Earth was come home.
He found the house fuller than he expected. His dad was in his favorite armchair, a newspaper resting on his lap and a look of profound relief on his face. In the kitchen, helping May frost a batch of cookies, were Mary Jane and Felicia. The sudden proximity of the two girls, both vying for his attention in their own unique ways, created a low-humming tension that was almost amusing.
"Ben!" May rushed over, pulling him into a hug that smelled of cinnamon and vanilla. "Oh, we were so worried! The news… it was all so chaotic."
"I'm fine, Aunt May. Just had to… consult on some things," Ben said, offering a practiced, easy smile. He glanced at the girls. "H.A.M.M.E.R. needed some technical support for their new global defense network."
Felicia, leaning against the counter with a silver-haired grace she now wore as naturally as her own skin, offered a knowing, cat-like smirk. Loki had apparently been quite thorough in his reports to the Plumbers' allies. She knew exactly where he'd been, and the knowledge was a shared secret that sparkled in her eyes.
Mary Jane, however, wasn't privy to such cosmic intel. Her smile was a little more fragile, her brow furrowed with a concern she couldn't quite voice. She meticulously placed a chocolate chip onto a cookie, her silence a question in itself. When would he trust her with the truth? All of it? He could feel the faint pang of her disappointment, a stark contrast to Felicia's confident amusement.
Sensing the shift, Ben moved deeper into the kitchen, deftly snagging a warm cookie from the cooling rack. "These are amazing, Mom," he said, his voice warm and genuine. He caught Mary Jane's eye and gave her a small, reassuring wink. "Don't worry, MJ. It's all over now. Things are just… busy."
His charm, as always, worked like a balm. The tension in Mary Jane's shoulders eased, and even Felicia's smirk softened into a genuine smile. For a few precious hours, he was just Ben Parker, home with his family and friends, the weight of multiple worlds lifted from his shoulders.
But the worlds wouldn't wait for long.
A call from Norman Osborn pulled him back to reality. The reconstruction of Manhattan was a monumental task, and Norman, ever the opportunist, saw it as a gold rush.
"Stark and T'Challa are footing the bill for the city's restoration," Norman's voice was crisp and business-like over the secure line, the backdrop of humming machinery indicating he was on the H.A.M.M.E.R. Helicarrier. "It's a generous, public-facing gesture. But the question, my boy, is who stands to profit from the contracts to actually do the work?"
Ben understood immediately. It wasn't a request for a donation; it was an invitation to the feast. "You want Primus Technologies to handle the infrastructure."
"Precisely," Norman confirmed. "Our productivity is unmatched. Let Stark and Wakanda write the checks. We'll build the new world."
A vision sparked in Ben's mind, far grander than simply rebuilding what was lost. "We won't just rebuild Manhattan, Norman. We'll revolutionize it. Forget repaving roads. We'll build a dedicated network of sky-lanes for the hover-car system. Fully integrated, from the Bronx to Battery Park."
He also saw a more personal project taking shape. "And I want to start with Queens," he added, his voice softening slightly. "If Mom and Dad won't move, I'll make their neighborhood the safest, most advanced community on the planet."
While Ben and Norman laid the architectural groundwork for a new New York, a quieter, more personal reconstruction was failing at Primus Tower. Bruce Banner, haunted by the Hulk's rampage under the Mind Stone's influence, had lost all faith in his other half. The symbiote allies, who had briefly offered him a path to understanding, had seen their mission through. Norman, in a gesture of goodwill, had helped them repair their damaged scout ship. Before they departed for the cosmos, their leader had offered Banner one final piece of counsel: "You are not the rage. You are the man who contains it. That is where your strength lies."
But the words were not enough. Banner was adrift in a sea of self-loathing, and it was a storm Ben, for all his power, knew he couldn't navigate for him. This was a battle for Bruce Banner's soul, and he had to fight it alone.
Leaving Banner to his struggle, Ben traveled to the orbital satellite that now served as the lynchpin for Earth's planetary defense. There, cradled in a humming containment field, was the Mind Stone.
"There's no need to keep the planetary shield active at all times," Dr. Otto Octavius argued, his eyes gleaming with an almost feverish intellectual curiosity as he stared at the yellow gem. "We simply need to activate it when a threat is detected. In the meantime…"
The implication hung in the air, thick with ambition.
"In the meantime, we should be studying it," Otto finished, his voice filled with reverence. "S.H.I.E.L.D. left behind volumes of data on the Tesseract, but this… this Infinity Stone is a complete unknown. The future of human evolution could be locked inside that stone!"
"I disagree." Bruce Banner's voice was a low growl. He stood with his arms crossed, his posture radiating a mix of fear and authority. "These stones are saturated with radiation. Studying them is reckless. My life is a testament to the dangers of unchecked ambition in that field."
Otto, undeterred, turned on him. "With all due respect, Dr. Banner, your accident was a result of your own hubris as much as it was the fault of the radiation," he said, his words sharp and painfully accurate. Before becoming the Hulk, Banner's genius was matched only by his arrogance. "Fire is dangerous, Doctor. But if our ancestors had refused to learn how to control it, we would still be living in caves, eating raw meat. We cannot let fear dictate the pace of progress."
Dr. Connors, standing nearby, nervously adjusted his lab coat, wisely staying out of the ideological crossfire. He was a biologist; the mysteries of genetic code were complex enough without adding cosmic singularities to the equation.
As the two brilliant minds clashed, Ben's gaze was fixed on the Mind Stone. The argument faded into the background as two names surfaced from the depths of his memory: Wanda and Pietro Maximoff.
In the original timeline, the twins gained their powers from Hydra's experiments with this very stone. But later revelations suggested Wanda was always a witch, a born nexus of chaos magic. The stone hadn't created her power, merely unlocked it prematurely. He thought of what he knew of the multiverse, of anchor points and nexus beings—individuals whose existence was critical to the stability of their timeline. Old Man Logan, the Ancient One, and, in many realities, the Scarlet Witch.
If Hydra was gone, if the twins were never exposed to the stone, would Wanda ever reach her full potential? Or would this universe be left without one of its most vital anchors, slowly unraveling without anyone ever knowing why?
He had dismissed the thought before, but now, with the stone humming before him, the risk felt too great to ignore. He was building a new world, but it would all be for nothing if the foundation of reality itself was unstable. The Plumbers needed more than soldiers and scientists. They needed power on a scale he couldn't yet comprehend. They needed the Scarlet Witch.
Turning away from the argument, Ben spoke, his voice cutting through the debate with quiet authority.
"Eunice."
"Yes, Ben?" the AI's voice chimed in his ear.
"Run a search. Eastern European nation of Sokovia. I'm looking for two orphans. Wanda and Pietro Maximoff."
A moment later, a data file appeared on his private display. Pictures of two teenagers, their faces etched with a weariness that belied their years. Their location was confirmed.
"Book me the next flight."