As an electrical engineer and world-class hacker, Scott Lang quickly understood why the recruiters were swarming him.
After the cyberwar that crippled global networks, every major company was desperate for talent—especially people who could rebuild broken systems. The servers, data lines, and infrastructure damage ran deep; this wasn't just an IT problem, it was a global collapse.
And while Scott had a criminal record, his name was still in countless company databases. They all knew what he could do.
Smiling slyly, he crossed his arms. "Alright," he said, his voice carrying over the crowd. "Whoever can give me a signed photo of King Apocalypse, I'll join their company."
The street went dead silent.
Then—chaos.
"Is this guy nuts?" someone blurted. "Nobody even knows who King Apocalypse is! Where's anyone supposed to get a photo?"
"Even if someone did, you think they'd sell it to him?" another scoffed.
"I heard SHIELD had a few leaked photos from a special forces team," said one recruiter in a hushed tone. "No one could tell if they were real or fake—and they went for tens of millions of dollars."
That number sent a collective hiss through the group.
"Tens of millions? For maybe-fake pictures?"
"Couldn't you just Photoshop one and cash out?"
"Yeah, good luck with that," another said. "Those photos were originally issued to SHIELD agents during a mission—rumor says Director Fury himself gave them out. Afterward, a few soldiers tried to smuggle the photos out and sell them. SHIELD tracked them down fast. Everyone who saw those pictures had to sign a confidentiality agreement."
A hush fell over the group.
"Wait," someone finally asked. "A photo that dangerous? What, is he really a god or something?"
"Maybe," another whispered. "They say he's an Asgardian. Maybe the photo actually carries some divine energy."
That absurd theory made perfect sense to everyone present. Heads began to nod.
"No wonder it's worth millions. If the guy can crush alien ships with his bare hands, his photo might actually be a good-luck charm."
At that moment, a man from Brother Gu's company adjusted his tie and said quietly, "I've… signed one of those confidentiality orders."
The crowd gasped in unison.
"You what?!"
If that was true, it meant he'd seen one of the photos of King Apocalypse.
Most didn't believe it—he looked like a mid-level HR rep, not someone worth SHIELD's attention—but curiosity won out. They crowded around him instantly.
"What did he look like? Was he human? Alien? Come on, man, give us something!"
Even Scott leaned in, unable to help himself.
The HR man raised a hand modestly. "If I've signed a confidentiality order, how can I just talk about it?"
"Come on, brother," one recruiter urged, "we're all friends here. Tell us a little and I'll buy you drinks tonight."
"I'll throw in front-row seats to the show at Velvet Heaven," another offered.
The man's eyes lit up. "You're all very persuasive," he said, clearing his throat. "Alright, I'll tell you one thing."
He looked around dramatically. "That day, I went to deliver a report to our company president. I walked into his office and saw him staring at a portrait—some kind of oil painting. Before I could even ask, a team of armed agents stormed in and aimed their guns at us. Turns out, the portrait was of King Apocalypse himself."
Gasps.
"Did SHIELD take it back?" someone asked breathlessly.
He hesitated. "I can't say."
"What did he look like, then?"
"I can't say that either."
"Come on!" the crowd groaned. "You're worse than a teaser trailer!"
When he saw his promised drinks slipping away, he quickly added, "Fine, fine! I'll tell you this much—he's a young man, and his smile… is so bright it doesn't belong in this world."
The recruiters stared at him, half skeptical, half awestruck.
A beat of silence followed—then, predictably, the frenzy shifted back to chatter and jokes. Scott was forgotten, left standing there holding a stack of business cards he hadn't asked for.
He chuckled to himself. "Guess I'll keep my options open."
Stuffing the cards into his pocket, he walked off toward the parking lot. There were more important things than job offers right now.
I like seeing his daughter.
As he left the restricted area, a familiar voice called out from a dented van parked near the curb.
"Hey, Scott! Finally!"
Scott's face broke into a grin. "Louis. You actually came."
"Of course, man! Who else would?" said Louis, hopping out of the driver's seat. "I mean, your ex-wife's remarried, right? Totally understandable, she couldn't make it. And think about it—if she showed up without your daughter, the kid would ask where you were, and what's she supposed to say? Can't lie to a child, man. So, really, I should come to pick you up!"
"Louis, stop. Stop talking. Please." Scott laughed, rubbing his temples.
Louis was the same as ever—loyal, enthusiastic, and incapable of silence.
As they got into the van, Louis kept rambling. "So, where to? You don't have a job, you don't have a place, and rent's crazy right now. You can crash at my place. My sofa's basically a bed—folds out and everything. Automatic telescopic function, bro. Better than a queen-size!"
"Fine, fine," Scott groaned. "I'll go wherever you say. Just drive."
The van sputtered to life, rumbling down the road.
They hadn't gone far when Scott noticed someone up ahead—an Asian man standing by the roadside, thumb out, smiling calmly.
"Don't stop," Scott warned. "Anyone hitchhiking outside a prison isn't someone we want to meet."
But before Louis could reply, the stranger reached into his coat and flicked his wrist. A thick stack of hundred-dollar bills caught the sunlight, fluttering in the breeze.
Louis slammed on the brakes so hard Scott nearly went flying.
"Louis!" Scott shouted. "You can't just stop for money! What if he's dangerous?"
"Relax, man," Louis said, grinning. "Maybe he's just broke. He's Asian, right? They're super polite people. Totally harmless."
The stranger walked over and opened the passenger door like he'd known them for years.
"Hey, Scott. Louis."
Both men froze.
"It's our first meeting, so I didn't bring much," the man said easily, handing Louis the stack of bills. "Consider this a gift."
Louis' grin widened as he snatched the cash. "Wow! You are polite! Need a ride anywhere? You name it, I'll take you there!"
Scott stared warily. "Who are you? And how do you know our names?"
The man's smile didn't waver. His eyes gleamed with quiet amusement.
"My name is Lock," he said. "And I've been expecting you."
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A/N: Advanced Chapters Have Been Uploaded On My Patreon
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