***
**Chapter 46 – Lines in the Sand**
Wind rushed past Guardian's ears as he cut across the skyline.
New York shimmered beneath him—neon lights reflecting off glass towers, the city humming with its sleepless rhythm. Below, cars streamed with urgency; above, clouds parted just enough to let the stars peek through.
He hovered for a moment atop a maintenance platform halfway up the Tower, his silhouette merging with the spine's metallic glow. The massive "A" gleamed ahead, haloed by electric haze.
The elevator hummed as it rose through glass and steel. Guardian stood still, arms folded behind his back, gaze fixed on shifting reflections in the mirrored walls. His mask shimmered faintly, the deep blue glow of his Miraculous pulsing in time with his heartbeat.
Outside, the city pulsed with life—constellations of light flickering against dusk. Up here, it was quiet. Detached. The world below felt distant, almost unreal.
When the doors parted, silence was broken only by the low whirr of machinery and the crackle of holographic screens.
"Welcome, Sir Guardian," said a familiar, artificial voice—calm and measured.
"Mr. Stark is expecting you."
Guardian nodded. "Evening, JARVIS. It's been a while since I've been here."
"Indeed, sir. One month and fourteen days since your last recorded appearance in Manhattan. Your biometric readings are unusual. Unable to determine physiological age or species. Shall I log this as interference?"
Guardian's mouth curved faintly beneath his mask. "Let's call it magic and move on."
"Very good, sir," JARVIS replied with digital resignation. "Mr. Stark will find that explanation… unsatisfactory."
***
**Avengers Tower – 8:04 PM**
JARVIS's voice cut through the silence:
> "Mr. Stark, we have a visitor."
Tony didn't look up from his holographic schematic. "If it's the pizza guy again, tell him I'm still not paying the 'hero surcharge.'"
> "Sir, it's Guardian."
Tony froze, fingers gripping the projection tool. Across the room, Steve straightened, shifting from relaxed to alert.
"Are you sure?" Steve asked.
> "One hundred percent, Captain. He's entering through the elevator. You know him as… Guardian."
Tony let out a low whistle. "Well, that's a name I've wanted to meet since the Chitauri tried remodeling Manhattan. I gave him an invite—didn't expect him to show up."
The lab door slid open with a quiet hiss. Lights dimmed as Guardian stepped through, his visor reflecting both men. His suit pulsed faintly, like a living heartbeat.
Neither Tony nor Steve spoke immediately.
"Guardian," Steve said at last, voice warm but measured. "Didn't think we'd get to thank you in person."
Guardian inclined his head. "Captain Rogers. Mr. Stark."
Tony leaned back, unreadable but curious. "Impeccable timing. Most people text before dropping into my billion-dollar tower, but I'll make an exception."
Guardian's voice was steady. "I didn't come uninvited. Stark, you asked for this meeting."
Tony smiled wryly. "Fair point. I wanted to talk. Didn't expect the ghost of New York to actually show."
***
Steve gestured to a seating area near the glass wall. "Why don't we sit?"
Guardian moved with quiet precision, almost too fluid for a man in armor. Lights from the skyline painted blue and gold across his chestplate.
Tony sat across, a glass of amber liquid in hand. Steve sat beside him, posture straight but relaxed.
The humming reactors filled the pause until Tony spoke. "Let's skip the small talk. You helped in New York, vanished, your winged partner showed up in a trafficking op, and now you're here. So, what's your purpose?"
Guardian replied calmly, "Just honoring my predecessor's promise. Maybe."
"Mind telling me what this promise is?" Tony asked.
"Feels like an interrogation," Guardian said, tone sharpened by purpose. "But since you asked—the promise was to protect this planet, if possible."
Steve glanced at Tony. "That's all?"
Guardian shook his head. "Yes. If the planet's in danger, the current Guardian will help resolve the crisis."
Steve frowned. "Tony says you knew about the invasion beforehand. Do you have a way to identify future threats?"
"It's complicated," Guardian said. "Mayura's been leaking information, but since you know this much, might as well share. Yes, I have an ability to see futures."
Tony gasped. "So that's how you knew about the Chitauri? If you can see the future, can you tell us about upcoming events?"
"Not exactly," Guardian said. "I can see the future if it remains untouched. Imagine a pond—as long as its surface is undisturbed, I see the bottom. But once something touches it, everything becomes unclear."
Tony sighed. "So, unless someone interferes with the timeline, you see it; after changes, you can't. Let me guess—you can't see the future now."
Steve asked, "What do you mean?"
Tony said sharply, "It means he changed the timeline. Right?"
"Right. In the original timeline, everyone here died. But now, we're still breathing," Guardian replied.
"So we can't see the future anymore?" Steve concluded.
"For now, yes. When the water settles, I'll see again. But let's move on—I have something else to discuss," Guardian said.
***
Steve's voice dropped. "Something else?"
Guardian's visor reflected his calm stare. "The two kids you have—Luminous and Void. Are they stable?"
Tony's brows rose. "So that's what this is about."
"Partly. Mayura asked me to check on them," Guardian's tone softened. "They weren't meant to be weapons. Their energy—especially the boy's—isn't just mutation; it's tied to a dangerous dimension. Their energies balance each other. With proper training, their powers won't overwhelm them. Please, help them."
Steve nodded. "They're safe here. We're helping them recover. That's a promise."
Guardian nodded. "Good. That's all I needed to hear."
Tony sat forward, curiosity sharp. "You seem to know a lot about their power. Are they important?"
Guardian didn't answer directly. "They are. In timelines, they become heroes—cloak and dagger—they help you and the young heroes."
Tony exhaled, thoughtful. "You make it hard not to like you."
Steve folded his arms. "The Security Council wants your file. They're interested in your restoration ability."
Guardian chuckled shortly. "I'm aware. They won't find anything. It's better that way."
Tony, over his glass, said, "They think you're a risk. You show up, save the day, then revive the dead. That gets attention."
"It doesn't matter. It's what I'd have done, regardless," Guardian said evenly.
Tony smiled. "Touché."
Steve, earnest, said: "I don't agree with them. You helped save thousands. I wish we understood you better. You may have a power that saves people from the edge. We could use that."
Guardian looked to the city lights. "I respect that, Captain. But I won't join. I'll stay in contact."
After a long pause, Steve said, "All right. You want a secure line? We'll make that happen. Tony?"
Tony nodded. "Off-grid, quantum-encrypted, no Council oversight. Only you and us."
Guardian nodded in gratitude. "That's all I needed."
Tony studied him one last time. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you came. Maybe the world isn't as chaotic as it seems."
Guardian replied, "The world's always chaotic, Stark. We just pretend it isn't."
***
They walked him to the elevator, silence settling between them.
"Guardian," Steve said at the threshold, "If you ever want to do more, there'll always be a place for you here."
Guardian nodded. "Maybe. Not yet."
The elevator slid open. As he stepped in, JARVIS spoke, soft:
> "Good to hear from you again, Guardian."
Guardian almost smiled. "Likewise, JARVIS."
And he was gone—descending through glass and light, swallowed by the city's glow.
***
Steve watched the lights fade, reflections lingering in the glass.
"You think he'll use that line?" Steve asked quietly.
Tony pocketed a data chip. "If the world ends again, yeah. Otherwise, maybe it's better if he doesn't."
The night stretched, silent beyond the Tower. Somewhere below, Guardian disappeared into the hum of the city—just another shadow between storms.
***
End of Chapter 46