Marvel: Hunter

About ten seconds later, the young Spider-Man finally regained his senses and climbed slowly onto the rooftop, standing beside Blaine. He looked at him with wide, curious eyes.

"Someone actually knows me!"

Blaine chuckled. "Of course I know you."

"Someone really knows me!" Spider-Man repeated, beaming.

After so long trying to be a friendly neighborhood hero, someone had finally called him 'Spider-Man'. Could he not be happy? Could he not 'celebrate'?

"By the way—who are you?" he asked after a moment.

"Who am I?" Blaine echoed.

He shook his head, smiling. "Tell me who 'you' are first, and maybe I'll return the favor."

"Uh..."

Spider-Man hesitated. "Never mind. Right—run! Aliens are about to invade!"

'Heh.'

Blaine barely reacted, a small smile twitching on his lips.

You're telling me? I told 'you' that. Now you're telling it back to me? Bah.

"What about you?" he asked casually.

"Me?" Spider-Man looked out across the river toward Manhattan. He stood tall. Proud. "I'm going to fight aliens!"

'Pffft.'

Blaine blinked.

He hadn't expected that this chaotic little butterfly flapping around would end up fighting aliens.

Then again, why not? One more Spider-Man wouldn't tip the scales either way. And one less wouldn't change the outcome, either.

The Chitauri invasion was no small event—it was a clash between civilizations. Not something a lone high-schooler in spandex could alter. Ten Spider-Men wouldn't be enough.

"Then I'm going to fight aliens too," Blaine said after a pause, smiling.

"Can you even fight?" Spider-Man asked skeptically, glancing at him. "I've never heard of you."

Blaine scoffed, a little annoyed. "Worry about yourself first."

This version of Spider-Man wasn't exactly famous yet. But after finding out someone knew who he was, he'd suddenly gotten cocky.

The two stood chatting casually.

Suddenly, from the heart of Manhattan, a beam of concentrated blue light blasted into the sky—from the top of Stark Tower.

With their enhanced vision and the sheer brightness of the beam, it was impossible to miss.

"It's started," Blaine muttered, his eyes narrowing with focus.

"Whoa! Something's wrong!" Spider-Man yelped, his spider-sense flaring like mad. His entire body tensed.

Without hesitation, he crouched, ready to leap off the rooftop and swing toward Manhattan.

Time to punch aliens.

But just before he jumped, he noticed Blaine still standing there. Confused, he hesitated. "Didn't you say you were gonna fight aliens? Why aren't you moving? Didn't you 'see' that? Or are you just some guy in cosplay?"

"I saw it. I 'felt' it."

Blaine frowned. "But it's not time yet. We wait."

"Wait?" Spider-Man blinked. "Wait for 'what'?"

"Timing. You know what that is?"

Blaine gave him a sideways glance. "You can wait with me—or go on your own."

"..."

Spider-Man scratched the back of his head awkwardly, then coughed. "I'll stay."

He was still just a high school student, after all. And right now, sticking with someone—even someone mysterious—was better than facing a cosmic invasion solo.

---

Inside the tower, Loki raised the scepter, attempting to control Tony Stark's mind.

Unlike others he'd easily subjugated—like Erik Selvig and Clint Barton—the result was... 'nothing'.

A metallic 'ding' rang out as the scepter tapped Tony's chest.

No effect.

Loki's smirk faltered. He tried again.

'Ding.'

Still nothing.

His gaze narrowed on the glowing arc reactor embedded in Tony's chest.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Mind Stone controls minds, not hearts. But this? This wasn't ordinary resistance.

In truth, the reason the scepter failed was because the 'arc reactor's energy signature', derived from advanced tech (and possibly reverse-engineered elements from the Tesseract's energy), disrupted or shielded Tony's mind from manipulation.

Thanks to Blaine.(but actually it the credit goes to Howard Stark.)

If not for that... the Avengers might have faced a terrifying turn of events.

After all, Tony Stark—with all his genius and resources—would make a dangerous enemy under Loki's control.

In time, Tony would develop specialized armor for nearly every occasion—Hulkbuster, Thorbuster, even Galactus-level theoretical counters. Most got blown up anyway, but the intent was clear.

Tony planned ahead.

"I've never missed a shot," Loki muttered. He couldn't believe it.

The Mind Stone's power had worked every time. 'He' was the god of mischief, amplified by a cosmic artifact. Failure wasn't in the script.

Yet—'ding'. Again.

And again.

Tony, trying to stay composed, smirked nervously. "Maybe it's a glitch in the scepter. Happens to the best of us. Wanna stop poking now?"

Loki, visibly frustrated, grabbed Tony's chin.

Then—'SLAM'—he hurled him across the room.

"Jarvis... any time now," Tony muttered as he hit the floor, scrambling to his feet.

"You will 'all' kneel before me!" Loki bellowed, advancing.

Tony raised his voice. "NOW, JARVIS! Start it!"

---

'CRASH!'

A window shattered explosively as Tony was thrown out of the building.

"WHOA!!"

He yelled, tumbling through the air.

The bracelet on his wrist beeped.

From a hidden launch platform above, Mark VII armor burst free—rocketing through the sky.

It slammed into Loki mid-air, throwing the god back, then reassembled in-flight around Tony, snapping into place piece by piece with sharp metallic clicks.

Fully suited up, Iron Man roared back toward the rooftop.

"You've also pissed off someone else," he said, hovering in front of Loki.

"Agent Phil Coulson."

A repulsor blast exploded from his gauntlet.

Loki barely had time to react—he was flung backward, crashing hard into the rooftop.

---

But it was already too late.

The Tesseract device—activated.

A beam of brilliant blue light erupted from the top of Stark Tower into the sky.

The portal had opened.

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