May 2016. The world watched Leipzig-Halle Airport like it was the end of an era.
The footage would play on loop for years: Iron Man's repulsors flaring, Captain America's shield ricocheting, Spider-Man swinging in with wide-eyed enthusiasm, Black Panther's claws gleaming. Two teams. One runway. No civilians in the blast zone—thankfully—but the stakes were everything the Avengers stood for.
Alex Kane watched the live satellite feeds from a private room in his Long Island City office, Aether projecting multiple angles across the walls. He hadn't flown to Germany. Too exposed. Instead, he'd done what he could from afar.
He'd fed anonymous intel to both sides in the weeks leading up:
- To Steve's team (via encrypted drop to Sam Wilson's burner): safe exfil routes through the tunnels, weak points in airport security.
- To Tony's side (via a proxy server that bounced through three countries): real-time analysis of Zemo's movements, confirming the Siberian trap without revealing how he knew.
Neutrality meant balance. Balance meant fewer deaths.
When the fight erupted, Alex's focus narrowed to damage control.
Aether monitored every camera feed, drone sighting, and radio chatter it could access. The drones he'd quietly seeded into European airspace (under KaneTech's "international testing program") hovered at the edges—too far to be noticed, close enough to intervene if things spiraled.
They never did. The clash stayed contained. No fatalities. Just bruises, broken ribs, and a Quinjet crashing through a hangar.
But Alex still acted.
When Black Panther lunged at Bucky—claws out, rage boiling—Alex triggered a micro-EMP pulse from one of the stealth drones. A brief flicker: Panther's vibranium suit glitched for half a second, repulsor tech stuttering. Just enough delay for Bucky to dodge the killing blow. T'Challa recovered fast, but the moment passed.
Later analysis would call it a "power fluctuation." Alex knew better.
He also patched a quiet signal to Spider-Man's suit comms—anonymous, untraceable—warning him about the falling debris from the collapsing walkway. Peter webbed clear just in time. The kid never knew who sent it.
When the smoke cleared, Steve and Bucky escaped. Tony's team stood down, battered. The world declared it a draw.
Alex exhaled, leaning back in his chair.
*[Airport Incident Assessment: Civilian casualties: 0. Enhanced personnel injuries: Moderate. Overall damage mitigation: 94% success relative to worst-case projections.]*
*[New Acquisition Opportunity: T'Challa (Black Panther) – Vibranium suit interaction trace detected via EMP feedback loop.]*
During the EMP pulse, a faint vibranium residue had transferred through the drone's sensor array—enough for ambient harvest.
*[DNA Trace: T'Challa, King of Wakanda. Analysis: Heart-Shaped Herb enhancement – Superhuman agility (+4.1σ), Enhanced senses (+3.8σ), Peak human+ durability & reflexes. Minor vibranium integration markers. Risks: Low.]*
*[Selective Copy: Agility & Reflexes +1.1σ (stacking on existing). Copy?]*
*Yes. Agility only.*
The transfer settled like liquid grace—his movements smoother, balance perfect. He tested it by walking across the office on his fingertips. Effortless.
Useful for what came next.
That night, he couldn't sleep. Instead, he drove to a quiet diner in Queens—the same one he and Elena used to visit. Gwen met him there at 2 a.m., hair messy from sleep, wearing his old MIT hoodie.
She slid into the booth opposite him.
"You look like hell," she said softly.
"Felt like it today." He stared at his untouched coffee. "I watched people I respect tear each other apart. And I couldn't stop it."
Gwen reached across, took his hand. "You kept it from getting worse. That's something."
He looked up. "I don't know if it's enough."
She squeezed. "It has to be. For now."
They sat in silence for a while. Then she asked the question he'd been dreading.
"Are you going to pick a side?"
Alex shook his head. "I can't. They're both right. And both wrong. I'm just trying to keep the people caught in the middle alive."
She nodded slowly. "Then keep doing that. And when you're done… come find me."
He leaned across the table, kissed her gently. No promises. Just the truth between them.
Back home, Elena was waiting up—rare for her.
"You're out late again," she said, arms crossed.
"Work stuff." He hesitated. "Mom… things might get complicated soon. With the heroes. With the government."
She studied him. "You're in the middle of it, aren't you?"
"Not exactly." He sat beside her on the couch. "But close enough."
She pulled him into a hug—the kind she used to give when he was small. "Then be careful. And remember: you're still my boy first. Hero second."
He hugged back, copying another sliver of her quiet strength.
The interface updated in the quiet:
*[Cumulative Enhancements: Agility now +2.9σ overall. Reflexes approaching peak human limit.]*
*[Relationship Status: Gwen Stacy – Bond level: Committed. Emotional anchor confirmed.]*
*[Hydra Exposure: SHIELD internal memos reference "KaneTech shadow asset." Risk level: Moderate.]*
*[Next Critical Node: Siberian facility confrontation. Zemo trap activation in 72 hours.]*
Alex stared at the ceiling long after Elena went to bed.
The lines had been crossed.
The Avengers were broken.
And somewhere in the shadows, Natasha Romanoff was moving—alone, watchful, calculating her own path.
Alex had a feeling their paths would cross soon.
He closed his eyes.
The grind never stopped.
But now it carried the weight of broken friendships.
And the promise of new ones.
(Word count: 1004)