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"Achoo!"
"God bless you."
In the Empire State University cafeteria, MJ glanced at Hawk, who'd just sneezed, and offered her blessing.
Hawk pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice slightly nasal.
"Thanks."
"Are you coming down with something?"
Gwen, sitting beside him, looked concerned. "You've been sneezing a lot these past few days. When you got home the other night, and over the weekend at home, I kept hearing you sneeze on and off. Are you actually getting sick? Should we go to the hospital this afternoon and get you checked out?"
Getting a hospital checkup was a time-consuming nightmare.
You could schedule an appointment before you had cancer, and by the time they actually saw you, they'd diagnose you with cancer.
After all, medical care in a capitalist society wasn't a necessity. It was a luxury item.
But luxury items were relative—only expensive for ordinary people.
For the old Hawk, maybe. But for the current Hawk? Definitely not.
Setting aside Hawk's current power level, just the fact that his bank account had over forty million sitting in it meant he didn't need to go looking for medical resources. Medical resources would come knocking on his door.
Don't ask why the money had increased.
The answer was simple—hazard pay from the Security Council.
And Hawk had earned it.
After all, he'd genuinely helped the Security Council solve a massive problem.
While they'd still been negotiating and negotiating, Hawk had already handled all their difficulties for them.
A pristine, snow-white piece of real estate, just waiting for them to move right in.
So—
A week ago, the moment Hawk got home, the Security Council's payment had hit his account. They'd even specifically noted it was after taxes, so he didn't need to worry about the IRS coming after him.
Hawk was quite satisfied with that.
He hadn't been thinking about getting paid when he'd acted. But the Security Council's attitude still made him pretty happy.
There was just one downside.
Ever since he'd received that payment, his nose had been inexplicably itchy for the past few days.
Hawk had the distinct feeling someone was talking trash about him.
Not a feeling, actually.
Someone was definitely talking trash behind his back.
Hawk had a pretty good idea who.
Probably some people bitching in private, saying the Security Council paying him was a sign of weakness, that it would only encourage his arrogance, that they should have taken a harder stance instead.
There were definitely idiots like that out there.
After all, the world was just one giant circus run by clowns.
But Hawk didn't really care.
Everyone talks trash sometimes. He talked trash about Mephisto all the time behind his back.
Besides, these politicians got where they were by running their mouths anyway. When it came time to actually do something, they folded.
Talk was cheap. As long as they didn't try anything, it was fine. Because if they actually made a move, he'd have to make one too.
Hawk thought about all this, then waved off his fiancée's concern about going to the hospital.
"No need."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure."
Hawk confirmed firmly, then quickly changed the subject, turning to MJ's new boyfriend—the former high school bully who had, in Hawk's estimation, somewhat redeemed himself by stepping up at the gymnasium that day—Flash Thompson. "By the way, what were you saying before?"
Flash blinked, then said, "I was asking what happened after I passed out."
He'd been knocked unconscious by that bald Black woman's staff and woken up in the hospital.
Later, Flash had been told that the three bald Black women were escapees from a mental institution who'd been subdued by police who arrived on the scene. But something about that story felt off to him.
He was Flash Thompson, for God's sake.
If a mental patient could knock him out cold with one swing, what kind of psychiatric facility had the honor of housing three women built like tanks?
Hawk listened to Flash's question and turned to Gwen beside him. "Oh yeah, Gwen—what did happen after that?"
Gwen looked at Hawk's curious expression, completely speechless on the inside.
MJ, sitting across from Gwen, watched Hawk play along with Flash and couldn't help rolling her eyes internally.
But neither of the girls told Flash the truth.
Poor Thompson.
Soon enough—
The muscle-bound, simple-minded Thompson had been thoroughly convinced by MJ's explanations—with Gwen backing her up—that those three women really had been mental patients.
Hawk just sat there watching the two girls gaslight Flash.
Sure, Flash stepping up that day had improved Hawk's opinion of him. But only somewhat. Not enough to tell him the truth.
After all, right now Flash Thompson was just Thompson. He wasn't Agent Venom Thompson yet. Even if Hawk told him everything, it would just give the guy unnecessary stress.
And so, Hawk just watched quietly until his phone rang.
He pulled it out, glanced at the unknown number on the screen, and answered, bringing it to his ear.
"Hello..."
"Mr. Phoenix, this is the butler, Orr, from the Osborn—"
"I know who you are, old timer. What's up?"
"Could I trouble you to come to the Osborn estate? Miss Hardy and Mr. Parker may be in trouble."
"...Alright."
Hawk listened to the butler's voice on the other end, raised an eyebrow, felt something stir in his mind, then calmly agreed. He turned to Gwen beside him. "I'm done eating. Heading out."
Gwen glanced at Hawk and nodded.
"Drive safe."
"Yeah."
Hawk smiled faintly, kissed his fiancée's forehead, said goodbye to MJ and Flash, then walked out of the cafeteria. He climbed into his Audi A8, floored the gas, and drove out of Empire State University.
Then, he headed straight for the Osborn estate.
...
By the time he arrived, he hadn't even fully parked before the butler—who'd been waiting anxiously at the manor's front entrance—was already hurrying down the steps toward him.
The butler watched Hawk push open the car door and step out, his voice urgent.
"Mr. Phoen—"
"Hawk."
"...Right. Hawk." The butler knew Hawk had changed his surname, which was why he hadn't used his first name like usual. But hearing Hawk correct him, he immediately switched back to the old way. "Miss Hardy and Mr. Parker may be in trouble."
Hawk frowned, walking with the butler toward the manor's main building. "What do you mean 'may be' in trouble?"
The butler explained, "Normally, Miss Hardy contacts me once a month to handle some company business remotely. But it's been over a month now, and she hasn't called. And I can't reach the experimental facility on my end either."
Hawk's curiosity deepened.
"Where did Peter and Felicia go? They've been gone a long time, haven't they?"
"Osborn's offshore research platform in the Pacific."
The butler led Hawk into the study as he spoke, then pulled up a projection. Instantly, an image of an oil-rig-like experimental platform constructed in the middle of the vast ocean appeared before Hawk's eyes.
Hawk stared at the projected platform, genuinely impressed.
"Building a secret facility like this couldn't have been cheap."
"This was overseen by Mr. Norman Osborn when he was still alive."
"Fair enough."
Hawk nodded, then asked curiously, "What about the other people on the platform? Can't you reach them either?"
The butler shook his head. "I've tried every method I can think of. Otherwise, I wouldn't have called you."
Hawk instinctively glanced at the rueful butler.
"Who told you calling me would solve anything?"
"Peter did."
The butler explained to Hawk, "Peter said if he and Miss Hardy ever lost contact, once it was confirmed, I should reach out to you immediately. He believed you'd find him. Miss Hardy agreed. So after confirming they were out of contact, I called you right away."
Hawk actually laughed at that.
"Didn't think of me when they went off to play, but the moment something goes wrong, here I am?"
"Hawk, Peter—"
"I'm kidding. Relax, old timer."
Hawk watched the butler, who'd immediately started defending Peter, and chuckled. Then he looked at the projection of the platform floating in the middle of the ocean and got down to business.
"You have coordinates for this place?"
"Yes, yes, I do."
The butler perked up immediately, nodding repeatedly, then rushed over to the computer and projected the offshore facility's coordinates.
Hawk glanced at the coordinates, nodded, then pulled out his phone, preparing to call his fiancée and give her a heads-up.
Because the moment he'd seen those coordinates, he'd felt something.
A premonition.
This trip wasn't going to be as simple as going there and coming right back.
But, It wasn't a bad premonition. It was a good one.
Like this time, if he went, he'd obtain something he'd been hoping for.
But the feeling was vague. He couldn't pin down what it was exactly.
Soon enough—
The call connected.
"Hawk?"
"Gwen, Peter's missing. I'm going to find him."
"What—alright. Be careful."
Gwen had instinctively started to exclaim, then seemed to catch herself. Her voice became calm. "When will you be back?"
Hawk answered honestly. "Not sure. I've got a feeling this might take a while."
Gwen went quiet for a moment.
"Is it dangerous?"
"No. I'm the strongest on Earth. You know that."
Hawk spoke with complete confidence.
Because it was the truth. Looking at the present moment, how many Earth-based superheroes could actually go toe-to-toe with him??
The Ancient One didn't count.
She was a cheat code.
Gwen laughed at Hawk's confident answer. "Alright. Just take care of yourself. I'll call in sick for you tomorrow."
Hawk hummed in acknowledgment, then hung up.
The butler, who'd been waiting impatiently the entire time, immediately spoke up the moment Hawk ended the call. "The private jet is ready. We can leave anytime—"
Hawk pocketed his phone and looked at the butler. "Jet? Don't need it."
The butler froze.
The next second—
He watched as Hawk, standing right in front of him, gradually became transparent. His mouth fell open. His pupils visibly dilated.
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