Hayes Residence — Early Morning

Arthur and Winky appeared in his home office with a soft pop.

The house was already awake. Through the closed door, Arthur could hear the distant clatter of dishes, the hum of overlapping voices, and the particular, chaotic energy that only comes from a full household stirring to life.

“Sounds like everyone’s up,” Arthur said, rolling his shoulders. The lingering stiffness from his ordeal was fading fast.

“Everyone was either too excited or too worried to sleep well,” Winky noted quietly.

Arthur nodded and headed for the kitchen.

The noise grew louder as he approached. He could make out Pietro’s voice first, enthusiastic and encouraging, followed by Wanda’s softer tones. Then Elena’s frustrated grunt.

He paused at the kitchen doorway, leaning against the frame to take in the scene.

Elena sat at the breakfast table, her small face scrunched in intense concentration. A spoon lay on the table in front of her. Her hand was extended toward it, fingers splayed, willing it to move with every fiber of her six-year-old being.

The spoon didn’t budge.

Pietro leaned against the counter, arms crossed, grinning. “Come on, El! Just focus! You threw a car yesterday. A spoon should be easy!”

Wanda sat beside Elena, her expression patient and encouraging. “Ignore him. Remember the feeling. Don’t force it. Let it flow.”

“I’m trying!” Elena’s voice cracked with frustration. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, her face turning pink.

The spoon remained stubbornly still.

Tristan sat in his chair nearby, more interested in smearing porridge across the table than in his sister’s magical attempts. Eileen stood at the stove, spatula in hand, watching the scene with a mix of amusement and concern. Ariadne nursed a cup of coffee at the far end of the table, looking like she hadn’t slept much.

Arthur stepped into the kitchen.

Elena’s eyes flew open. She spotted him instantly.

“DADDY!”

She launched herself from the chair and sprinted across the kitchen, crashing into his legs with enough force to make him take a step back.

“I can’t do it!” she wailed, burying her face in his jeans. “I did magic yesterday but now I can’t do it again! It won’t work! Am I broken?”

Arthur knelt down, bringing himself to her eye level. He brushed a strand of hair from her face.

“You’re not broken, sweetheart. That’s completely normal.”

“But I moved the cars! I moved them!”

“You did. And that was incredible.” Arthur smiled gently. “But that was instinct. That was accidental magic reacting to danger. Making it happen on purpose? That takes training.”

Elena’s lower lip trembled. “So I can’t do magic?”

“You can absolutely do magic. You’ve already proven that.” Arthur tapped her forehead lightly. “The hard part is getting started. Discovering that spark inside you. You’ve already done that, Ele. Now you just need to learn how to call it up whenever you want.”

Hope flickered in her eyes. “Really?”

“Really. It just takes practice.”

Elena considered this. Then her expression shifted to something calculating, a look Arthur recognized all too well.

“Daddy, can I learn before we go to the Potters’ and Blacks’ for the holidays?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “That’s only a few weeks away.”

“I know! But I want to show Lily!” Elena bounced on her heels. “She thinks she’s so cool because she accidentally turned her teddy bear blue. If I can move a car…”

Arthur bit back a laugh.

“That depends entirely on you,” he said.

“On me?”

“If you eat all your meals without being picky, if you train when I tell you to train, if you practice your focus exercises every day…” Arthur held up a finger. “You might… might be able to do something small by then.”

Elena’s face went through a fascinating series of expressions. Excitement. Determination. Then, slowly, doubt.

“Every day?”

“Every day.”

“Even vegetables?”

“Especially vegetables. Magic needs fuel.”

Elena went very quiet. Arthur could practically see the gears turning. The burning desire to show off to her friends warring with her deep, profound hatred of vegetables.

Arthur stood up, leaving her to her internal debate, and turned to the rest of the kitchen.

“HULK!” Tristan announced from his chair, banging his spoon. “I Want Hulk! Daddy please bring Hulk!”

“After breakfast,” Arthur said firmly. “Finish your porridge first.”

“But—”

“Porridge. Then Hulk. That’s the deal.”

Tristan looked at his bowl. Then at his father. Then at his bowl again. With a determined expression that suggested he was preparing for war, he grabbed his spoon and began shoveling porridge into his mouth at an alarming rate.

Arthur crossed to Eileen, who had set down her spatula and was watching him with sharp eyes.

“You didn’t come home last night,” she said quietly.

“I’m sorry. The battle took more out of me than expected.” Arthur kissed her cheek. “I needed to rest somewhere with ambient magic to recover faster.”

“And you’re alright now?”

“Completely.” He spread his arms. “See? No injuries. Not even a scratch.”

Eileen studied his face, searching for the fatigue she knew must be there. Arthur looked fine, but she wasn’t entirely convinced.

“Winky seemed worried last night,” she said carefully. “More worried than she usually gets.”

“It was a difficult fight. But it’s over now.”

Eileen held his gaze for a long moment. Whatever she saw there, she chose not to push. Not now, at least. Not with the children present.

“We’ll talk later,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

“Of course.”

From the end of the table, Ariadne set down her coffee cup.

“So,” she said. “What’s the verdict?”

Arthur turned to face her. “I won. Mephisto won’t be coming to Earth anymore.”

“Gone for good?”

She didn’t specify what “gone” meant. The children were right there.

“It’s not that simple,” Arthur admitted. “Some beings can’t be… removed permanently. Let’s just say I put him somewhere he can’t get out of. He’s grounded. Permanently.”

Ariadne let out a long breath she seemed to have been holding since the night before. “As long as I never have to see that face again. That’s good enough for me.”

“It’s good for everyone.”

Ariadne reached into her jacket and produced something that glinted in the morning light. The adamantium blade Arthur had given her during the battle. She held it out to him, handle first.

“Your knife. I cleaned it.”

Arthur shook his head. “Keep it. You earned it.”

Ariadne paused, her hand still extended. “Arthur—”

“Good battle, Ari. Seriously.” He smiled. “Consider it a gift. You might need it in the future.”

Ariadne looked at the blade, then at Arthur. A small, rare smile touched her lips. She nodded once and sheathed it.

“Fine. But I’m not saying thank you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“This is so unfair.”

Pietro’s voice cut through the moment. He’d pushed off from the counter and was pacing now, his natural energy making it impossible for him to stay still.

“I can’t believe I missed it. Actual monsters. An actual battle. And I was stuck in a lecture about Macroeconomics.”

“You wouldn’t have been of any help, anyway,” Ariadne said mildly, taking a sip of coffee.

“I could have helped! I’m fast!”

“You’re fast for a human,” Arthur corrected. “Those creatures were genetically engineered super-soldiers with strength that could flip cars. You would have been a smear on the pavement.”

Pietro scowled. “I could have at least distracted one of them.”

“A distraction that ends with you dead isn’t useful to anyone.”

“I’m not that fragile—”

“Pietro.” Arthur’s voice was calm but firm. “I know you want to help. I know you’ve been training hard. But there’s a difference between being ready and being eager. Yesterday was not your fight. You would have died.”

Pietro’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue further.

On the other side of the table, Wanda hadn’t said anything. But Arthur caught the look in her eyes, the same frustrated determination that burned in her brother. She thought she could have helped too. Her chaos magic was growing stronger every month, and she was itching to test it.

Arthur made a mental note to address that later.

“Tell you what,” he said. “I have recordings of the entire battle. After breakfast, we can watch it together. See exactly what those creatures could do.”

Pietro perked up immediately. “Recordings?”

“Full combat footage. Multiple angles.”

“Now we’re talking!”

“And after you’ve seen it,” Arthur continued, “after seeing what those things did to Iron Man’s suit and the street… if you still think you could have taken one of them… I’ll arrange for you to spar with Hulk.”

The kitchen went quiet.

Pietro blinked. “Wait, seriously?”

“I want to watch the battle too!” Elena had apparently resolved her vegetable dilemma, or at least tabled it, and was now vibrating with excitement.

“Me too!” Tristan shouted through a mouthful of porridge.

Wanda’s eyes sharpened with interest. “I want to see Elena throwing the car. But you’d really let us test ourselves against the Hulk?”

“In a controlled environment. With safety measures.” Arthur shrugged. “The best way to learn your limits is to find them.”

“Wait,” Ariadne interrupted, frowning. “You have recordings? From the start?”

“Of course,” Arthur said, grabbing a piece of toast from Eileen’s plate. “There was a stealth drone in the air from the beginning. Eve was documenting the incident.”

Ariadne stared at him. “So you really were there. From the start.”

“Yes. Eve informed me before the monsters even breached the surface. I saw you all gearing up, saw how hyped you were for a challenge…” Arthur shrugged casually. “I figured I’d let you have your fun. I was on standby the whole time.”

Eileen set a plate down with slightly more force than necessary. The clack echoed in the kitchen.

“I still think you waited too long.”

Arthur winced. “I know. I’m sorry, dear. It won’t happen again.”

Eileen huffed but didn’t press the issue. Some arguments were better saved for when the children weren’t watching.

“Speaking of missing persons,” Arthur asked, looking around to change the subject. “Where’s Tony? Winky said something about Fury dragging him off?”

Eileen nodded, her expression shifting to something more neutral. “He got a call around midnight. Fury said he needed help ‘cleaning house.’ Something about ensuring a computer system was completely destroyed. He wanted Tony’s expertise. Or JARVIS’s, specifically.”

Arthur went still for just a moment.

Cleaning house. Destroying a computer system. JARVIS’s expertise required.

He knew exactly what that meant.

Arnim Zola. The Nazi scientist whose consciousness had been uploaded to a massive computer databank hidden within SHIELD’s infrastructure. The digital ghost that had been quietly guiding Hydra for decades.

Arthur had given Fury that intelligence over a year ago. It seemed the Director was finally ready for the endgame after all those small, careful moves. Using Tony to destroy Zola’s digital consciousness was a smart play. Tony wouldn’t leave a single line of code intact.

Maybe the events of the past few days, the emergence of gods and monsters, the very real possibility of alien invasion, must have finally given Fury the political capital he needed. The permission to act decisively.

“So Fury feels he’s ready,” Arthur murmured. “The Thor situation must have spooked some people in high places. Nothing like an alien invasion to loosen the purse strings.”

Ariadne raised an eyebrow. “You know what this is about.”

“I have a guess.” Arthur didn’t elaborate. The family didn’t need to know about Hydra today. They had enough monsters for one week. “Tony will fill us in later, I’m sure.”

“DADDY!”

Tristan’s shout cut through the conversation. He had somehow managed to finish the task Arthur had assigned him, holding up an empty bowl like a trophy.

“Done! I want to play with Hulk!”

Arthur laughed as Winky snapped her fingers, cleaning the chaotic mess Tristan had created while finishing his porridge.

“A deal is a deal,” Arthur said. He stood up, dusting crumbs from his hands. “You guys get the movie room ready. I’ll go get our guest.”

“Can I come?” Pietro asked immediately, already halfway out of his seat.

“No.”

“But—”

“It won’t be fun. Hulk when not transformed is just a nerdy man who wants to sleep. And I will be back quickly.”

Pietro slumped but nodded.

Arthur crossed to the center of the kitchen and raised his hand.

Golden sparks spiraled outward.

“Back in a few minutes,” Arthur said.

He stepped through the portal and vanished.

The kitchen was quiet for a moment.

Then Elena tugged on Wanda’s sleeve.

“Wanda?” she whispered loudly. “If I practice really hard… do you think I could make portals like Daddy someday?”

Wanda smiled, ruffling Elena’s hair.

“Maybe someday,” she said. “But let’s start with the spoon first, okay?”

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