Author's Note:✍️
From this point onward, I'll be using Antony as the MC's main name. Using both Transmigrator Stiles and Antony may get confusing, so this change is just to keep things clearer and smoother for everyone.
Same character, same soul—just one name moving forward. 😉📖
Thanks for reading and sticking with the story!
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A new script.
Right in front of Nick Fury, Tony Stark, and Natasha Romanoff, Antony's expression changed.
The flawless smile vanished.
"Antony …" he murmured the name softly, as if reciting a spell.
"No…" Antony slowly lifted his head. His eyes reddened, filling with the kind of grief that could only belong to someone who had returned from the dead—to a world that had moved on without him.
Steve Rogers caught it instantly.
"Are you okay?" Captain America asked, his voice gentler now.
"I… remembered something."
Then Antony spoke the words.
"Yes. I am Antony Starr."
The room froze.
Tony Stark slowly lowered his crossed leg.
Natasha leaned forward, muscles tightening.
Nick Fury's single eye locked onto Antony, searching his face for even the slightest crack.
"That's impossible," Maria Hill said quietly from behind. "Antony Starr was declared dead over a year ago—"
"I didn't die."
And so, Antony began his performance.
"I remember the storm," he said, voice low and heavy. "The yacht capsized. Freezing water rushed in. I thought… that was it."
"I lost consciousness. I thought everything was over."
He paused—just long enough.
"When I woke up… I was somewhere else."
"Where?" Fury pressed immediately.
"A place with no light… and no darkness," Antony replied. "I don't know how long I was there."
The vaguer the story, the more terrifying it became.
"Then… something found me."
"Something?" Tony asked.
"I don't know what they were." Antony shook his head slowly. "They erased most of my memories—including what they looked like. I only know this…"
"They changed me."
"They experimented on me."
"They gave me this—"
He raised his hand, staring at his palm.
"—this power. This curse."
"When I regained consciousness again, I was on a deserted island. I don't know how long it took me to control it. I learned how to fly. I flew back to the mainland."
"But I couldn't remember where home was."
His voice cracked—perfectly timed.
"I became a monster, didn't I?" He laughed bitterly. "I could hear heartbeats from miles away. I could see through bone."
His gaze suddenly snapped to Natasha.
"Agent Romanoff," he said calmly. "Your heart rate just spiked. Ninety-two beats per minute. You're nervous."
Natasha's expression changed instantly.
Then Tony.
"Mr. Stark. That glowing reactor in your chest—it hurts, doesn't it? And your left knee has an old injury."
Tony's grin froze.
Finally, Fury.
"Director Fury," Antony said softly. "Inside your coat—left inner pocket—an FN-P9 pistol. Thirteen rounds. One chambered."
"And a pager," he added. "Vintage."
"Motherf—ENOUGH!" Fury slammed his fist onto the table.
Silence.
"I'm sorry," Antony lowered his head.
The performance was flawless.
"I was afraid I'd hurt people. Afraid the world would see me as a monster. So I hid—like a vagrant—living in the shadows of cities."
"Until today."
He raised his head again. Something burned behind his eyes now.
"I saw the sky tear open. I saw aliens slaughtering my people… in my city."
"And I realized…"
"Maybe I'm not a monster."
"Maybe…"
He paused, then delivered the line that mattered most.
"Maybe the reason I came back… was for this moment."
Silence.
Long, heavy silence.
Then Steve Rogers stood.
He walked over to Antony—the man who had awakened in a world that no longer belonged to him. Steve recognized that look. He'd worn it himself.
"Son," Steve said gently.
"You're not a monster."
He placed a firm hand on Antony's shoulder.
"You're a hero."
🔔 Ding!
System Notification: Key figure "Captain America" has acknowledged you!
Hero persona successfully established!
Special Popularity Gain: +10,000
One down, Antony sneered internally—while outwardly looking utterly redeemed.
"Thank you, Captain," he said sincerely. "You're the real hero."
Tony rubbed his chin, frowning.
He didn't fully buy it—but damn it, the story was airtight. A rich kid lost at sea, abducted, altered, hiding for a year, then returning as a savior?
"It feels familiar…" Tony muttered.
Natasha and Fury remained unconvinced.
Natasha distrusted perfection.
And Nick Fury trusted no one.
"Very well, Mr. Starr," Fury finally said, leaning back. "Welcome home."
"We'll handle your legal identity. Your parents left behind a sizable trust fund. Your Upper East Side apartment…" He smirked. "Probably hasn't been dusted in a year."
He stood and stepped closer.
"S.H.I.E.L.D. will restore your identity. In return, when we call—you answer."
Yeah, good luck with that, Antony thought.
"Of course," he said obediently. "I need a place… to start over."
Fury handed him a smartphone.
"Your assets are already being unfrozen. The address is inside. Go. Rest. New York owes you."
"We'll be in touch."
Antony nodded politely.
At the door, he paused—turned back—and gave the Avengers what he believed was his most sincere smile.
"If you need me," he said, "you know where to find me."
WHOOSH—!
A blue streak shot into the sky.
"…Cool," Tony whistled. "I kinda like him."
"He might really be a hero," Steve murmured.
"He's a mystery," Natasha said quietly. "You sure he's really Antony Starr? Cosmetic surgery exists."
"Iris scan matched the database," Fury replied darkly. "Shouldn't be an issue."
Still, his eye lingered on the doorway long after Antony was gone.
"I hope I'm wrong," Fury muttered.
"And that he's a hero."
"Not another god we can't control."