Embers and Echoes

The Queens Tech Expo buzzed with the hum of innovation and the cloying scent of free espresso, but Arlan Harper's focus narrowed to the weight of the kendi-shaped water purifier in his hands. Its ceramic surface, etched with batik motifs of swirling waves, felt heavier than its three pounds—a tangible symbol of everything he'd built. Kirana tugged his sleeve, her lab coat sleeves rolled up to her elbows and smeared with beetroot dye from a "secret experiment."

"Do the voice!" she demanded.

"What voice?"

"The announcer voice! Like in the movies!"

Wanda chuckled, adjusting the conductive glove hidden under her crimson sweater. "Just do it before she starts a riot."

Arlan cleared his throat, pitching his voice into a baritone worthy of a carnival barker. "Behold! The Garuda Vessel—turning sludge into liquid gold since… ten minutes ago!"

The crowd chuckled. A man in a tailored suit leaned in, eyebrow raised. "Impressive for a school project."

"It's not a project," Arlan said, pouring murky pond water into the jug. "It's a prototype for—"

BANG.

The fire alarms screamed. Smoke billowed from the vents—thick and chemical, stinging Arlan's eyes. Chaos erupted as attendees stampeded. Kirana yelped, scrambling into Wanda's arms, while Pietro materialized in a gust of wind, his silver hair singed at the tips.

"Hydra?" Arlan barked.

"Discount Hydra," Pietro sneered, pointing to four figures in janitor uniforms advancing through the smoke. "Their boots squeak."

Wanda's glove hummed, scarlet energy licking her fingertips. "Let's teach them to mop properly."

The fight was short, brutal, and oddly poetic. Arlan deflected a taser baton with a Ren-reinforced clipboard. Wanda melted a Hydra agent's walkie-talkie into molten plastic, her chaos magic curling like smoke. Pietro zip-tied the last goon to a popcorn machine, stealing a handful of caramel corn mid-sprint. Kirana, perched on a vendor's counter, narrated the chaos into a stolen microphone: "And the evil mop guys go SPLAT! Justice by scienceee!"

Tony Stark arrived as the smoke cleared, sunglasses dangling from his collar. "Cute jug. Cuter right hook."

Arlan bristled. "We had it handled."

"Handled?" Stark plucked a caramel kernel from Pietro's hair. "Kid, Hydra's not a 'handle it with duct tape' problem. You need real firepower."

Wanda stepped forward, glove sparking. "We are the firepower."

Stark's smirk softened—something almost paternal in the tilt of his head. "Then let's make it official." He tossed Arlan a business card embossed with a golden phoenix. Stark Industries R&D Consultant.

The drive home was silent, thick with tension. Daniel white-knuckled the steering wheel, Wulan clutching Kirana like a lifeline. The twins sat rigid in the backseat, Pietro's knee bouncing at supersonic speeds.

"You should've called the police," Daniel finally said.

"They'd have gotten buried in red tape," Arlan replied, staring at Stark's card. "Hydra owns half the tape."

Wulan turned, her batik scarf slipping to reveal tears glistening in her lashes. "You're twelve, Sayang. Not a soldier."

"I'm whatever they force me to be."

Kirana, half-asleep, murmured into Wulan's shoulder: "Al's a superhero. Like Batman, but with less growling…"

Rain lashed the auto shop lot that night, turning gravel into sludge. Arlan and Wanda trained under the flickering streetlight, their auras clashing in bursts of gold and crimson.

"Again," Wanda demanded, chaos tendrils whipping like feral snakes.

Arlan lunged, En shield flaring. "You're pushing too hard!"

"You think Hydra cares about too hard?" Her magic surged, searing the rain into steam.

The collision rattled the rusted Cadillacs. Pietro blurred between them, hands raised. "Enough! You'll bring the cops!"

Wanda staggered, her glove sputtering. "I just… want it to stop."

Arlan's anger dissolved. He'd seen that look before—in bathroom mirrors after 18-hour shifts in his past life. The look of someone drowning in their own power.

"It won't stop," he said softly. "But we'll outlast it. Together."

Dawn found them in the basement lab, blueprints strewn beside Wanda's sketches of smoke and shadows. Kirana snored on a beanbag, crayons spilling from her grip. Pietro dismantled a Hydra taser, scowling at its circuitry.

"Stark's offer," Arlan began.

"Is a trap," Pietro interrupted.

"Is a lifeline," Wanda countered.

Kirana mumbled, half-asleep: "Take the glowy man's card, Al. He smells like candy…"

Arlan pocketed the card, resolve hardening. 'We'll walk the line. For now.'

Miles away, a figure clad in shadows studied a dossier. The Winter Soldier's vibranium arm gleamed under sterile light as he flipped through photos: Arlan at the Expo. Wanda melting steel. Pietro mid-sprint.

A voice crackled through his earpiece: "Asset, retrieve them. Alive."

He crushed the dossier, his breath frosting in the cold. "Ready to comply."