Avengers Tower, High-Tech War Room
The sleek walls of the war room hummed with quiet energy, illuminated by the soft blue glow of the holo-screens that surrounded the circular conference table. It was a room built for strategy—where battles were won before they even started. But today, the war wasn't against an alien armada or a rogue AI. Today, it was about the future.
Tony Stark leaned back in his chair, his fingers idly tapping against the polished surface. "Alright, let's get this rolling. First official strategy meeting since the whole 'New York got a free fireworks show courtesy of the Chitauri' incident. Hope everyone had a good vacation."
Across the table, Steve Rogers folded his arms, unimpressed. "It wasn't exactly a vacation, Stark. We've been rebuilding, training, and preparing for whatever comes next."
"Yeah, yeah. And what comes next is exactly what we're here to talk about," Tony shot back, flicking his wrist. A massive holographic display flickered to life in the center of the room, showcasing multiple data feeds—intelligence reports, threat assessments, and a particularly high-tech list labeled Potential Recruits.
Natasha Romanoff, ever the pragmatist, arched an eyebrow. "We barely function as a team ourselves, and now you want to add more people to the mix?"
Bruce Banner adjusted his glasses. "It does make sense to expand. We can't be everywhere at once."
Tony smirked. "Exactly! See, Banner gets it. We need fresh blood. And I'm not talking about the usual S.H.I.E.L.D-trained, government-approved types. I'm talking about actual heroes in the making. People with potential."
He swiped at the holo-display, bringing up two new profiles. The first was a grainy image of a masked figure in red and blue, clinging to the side of a skyscraper mid-swing. The second was sharper—a black-and-red-suited teen mid-air, flipping over a group of armed thugs, bio-electricity crackling around his fingers.
"Meet your friendly neighborhood Spider-Men," Tony announced. "Peter Parker and Miles Morales."
The room went silent for a beat. Then—
"You're bringing kids into this?" Clint Barton, a.k.a. Hawkeye, leaned forward, frowning. "C'mon, Stark. We barely made it through that last war standing, and now you want to throw teenagers into the deep end?"
Thor, who was surprisingly available for the meeting, leaning casually against Mjolnir, studied the holograms with mild curiosity. "These young warriors—are they battle-hardened?"
Tony shrugged. "Depends on your definition. Peter's been at this longer, stopped some serious threats in his own right. Miles? Newer, but the kid's got serious talent. Think Spider-Man, but with extra tricks up his sleeve."
Steve sighed. "Tony, we can't just take in kids because they have powers. That's not responsible."
"Oh? So leaving them alone, unguided, untrained, is responsible?" Tony shot back, his voice sharp. "These two? They're already out there, already fighting. And guess what? The bad guys aren't pulling their punches just because they're young. If we don't bring them in, someone else will. And I'd rather they learn from us than, say… a guy with a 'Sinister' agenda."
Natasha exhaled through her nose, considering. "You really think you can mentor them?"
Tony's expression softened, just a fraction. "I know what it's like to be the kid in the room with more power than you know what to do with. And I know how bad it can go if you don't have someone to steer you in the right direction."
Steve exchanged glances with Natasha and Bruce. There was a flash of understanding and agreement in their eyes.
"Alright," Steve finally said. "But if they're in, they're getting trained properly. No throwing them into the fire just because they can handle a few street thugs."
"Scouts' honor," Tony quipped, raising two fingers before immediately dropping them. "Now, before anyone starts nitpicking, let's watch the highlight reel, shall we?"
With a flick of his wrist, the holo-feed changed. The images became videos—live footage captured from security cams, drones, and, well… some ethically ambiguous surveillance Tony may or may not have set up.
Peter Parker zipped between New York skyscrapers, dodging laser fire from a group of armored mercenaries. He moved like a seasoned fighter, a blur of acrobatics and precision, webbing up weapons mid-air, flipping over enemies, quipping non-stop.
Miles Morales took center stage next. His approach was different—less experienced but raw with potential. He disappeared into thin air, phasing through a thug's grasp before reappearing behind him, a venom-charged punch sending the guy flying into a parked car. His bio-electricity arced in controlled bursts, taking out multiple enemies at once.
Thor let out a low chuckle. "They fight well. There is potential in them."
Even Steve looked begrudgingly impressed. "They move like seasoned fighters. Not just reckless kids swinging punches."
"Yeah, because they're not just kids," Tony said, watching the feed intently. "They're heroes. And it's time we started treating them like it."
As the footage ended, the room fell into a contemplative silence. The debate wasn't over, but something had shifted. The seeds had been planted.
And as Tony turned off the feed, a small smirk tugged at his lips.
'Step one, complete. Now, let's see how these kids handle the big leagues.'
As the Avengers discussed logistics, Tony's personal display pinged with a private notification. He tapped his interface, and a new video feed appeared.
It was live footage—Peter and Miles, unaware they were being watched. They were in action right now, dealing with something villainous as usual.
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