Chapter 3
The First Year: The Little Emperor and His Twin
The first year of Thomas Stark's new life was a slow, frustrating exercise in patience and forced powerlessness. While his mind was that of a cynical, 26-year-old genius reborn with cosmic power, his body demanded the indignity of diapers, feedings, and being carried everywhere.
His mother, Maria Stark, was immediately taken with her oldest son, Thomas. Perhaps it was his unsettlingly intelligent, calm gaze, or the way he never cried unless truly hungry, but she often called him her "Little Emperor." Thomas was quiet, observing the world with a detached curiosity that was easily mistaken for exceptional placidity.
His brother, Tony Stark, was the polar opposite.
Tony was a magnificent, miniature force of nature. He cried often, loudly, and with great theatrical flourish. He demanded attention, and his default state seemed to be one of wide-eyed, slightly frantic curiosity.
Howard Stark, a man ill-equipped for fatherhood, found his attention drawn to Tony. Tony's constant noise and visible reaction to external stimuli seemed more real to the emotionally stunted engineer.
"He's got fire, Maria!" Howard once boasted, holding the squalling Tony up as if presenting a prized invention. "That one will make a mess of the world! He's a true Stark!"
Maria, however, would always turn to Thomas. "Thomas is planning his world domination, dear. His method is just quieter." She'd gently stroke Thomas's tiny hand.
Thomas, though, was not planning world domination. He was using his partial Great Sage skill—just enough to function as a super-advanced calculator—to memorize and analyze his surroundings.
Language Acquisition: He absorbed every word, inflection, and conversation like a sponge, his memory processing it instantly. By six months, he had a perfect, if unvoiced, grasp of English.
Engineering Analysis: He mentally scanned every gadget, vehicle, and blueprint Howard left lying around (which was often). He analyzed the thermodynamics of the early arc reactor prototypes, the stress points on early satellite models, and the basic operation of the nascent Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, or S.H.I.E.L.D., documents Howard occasionally brought home.
System Progress: He checked his Status daily. The power lock remained at 99.9999%, and the travel system was still three years away.
The only true comfort was his sibling connection to Tony. Despite their opposite personalities, Thomas felt a deep, instinctive bond—a side effect of his first wish to be reborn with his big brother, even though the roles had reversed.
One afternoon, when they were about ten months old, a terrifying incident occurred. Howard was demonstrating a new, highly volatile chemical compound to a colleague in the lab adjacent to the nursery—a foolish, very Howard-esque move. A stray spark ignited the liquid, causing a minor explosion that shattered the thin lab wall and sent a spray of debris toward the twins' bassinets.
Tony screamed instantly, his eyes squeezed shut.
Thomas, too shocked to cry, felt the primal instinct of his hidden power surge. The tiny, almost non-existent portion of his Regeneration skill that wasn't locked kicked in. He didn't heal himself—he couldn't. Instead, the residual magicules in his body formed a barely visible, shimmering bubble of protection, like a soap film, around the two bassinets.
When the dust settled, the nursery wall was peppered with small, sharp shards of glass, but every piece had harmlessly bounced off the invisible barrier around the twin's beds.
Howard rushed in, his face pale with a rare moment of genuine terror. "Maria! The boys! Are they—"
Maria was already there, scooping up the crying Tony. Howard ran to the other bassinet and picked up Thomas, who was simply staring wide-eyed at the damaged wall.
"They're fine," Maria said, bewildered. "The glass didn't even touch the blankets. It's like... it was deflected."
Thomas looked up at his new father. Well, that was a close one. Need to keep this level of power usage to an absolute minimum..
The System chimed in his mind:
[ALERT: Uncontrolled use of residual magicules detected. Danger averted. Magicule reserves temporarily depleted. Maintaining seal: 99.9999%]..
Thomas knew one thing for certain: his 'unluckiness' had not entirely vanished, but now, he had the power to counter it, even in a sealed state. He just needed to grow up first.
To Be Continued