Word Count: ~2,500
Setting: New York, Early 2013. Alexei Vance, age 14, juggles his mobile game success, X-gene surges, and MIT enrollment.
The penthouse office of Vance Technologies buzzed with activity, a sleek fortress of glass and steel overlooking Manhattan's skyline. Alexei Vance, barely 14, slouched in a leather chair, his hoodie clashing with the corporate polish around him. His mother, Dr. Marina Vance, stood at the head of a conference table, pitching quantum processors to a room of investors. Alex's eyes, however, were glued to his new tablet, tracking Clash of Clans downloads: 5 million and climbing, with daily revenue hitting $1.5 million. His transmigrator mind hummed with satisfaction—this was step one to rivaling Tony Stark.
"Alexei," Marina's voice cut through, sharp but warm. "Care to join us?"
Alex glanced up, catching her raised eyebrow. At 38, Marina was a force—CEO, single mom, and genius scientist, her dark hair pulled into a tight bun. She didn't know about the Stark Expo model in their basement vault or his AI, VISTA, but her scientist's instinct sensed Alex was hiding something. "Sorry, Mom," he said, flashing a grin. "Just checking my… homework."
The investors chuckled, charmed by the wunderkind who'd coded a global hit at 13. "Your son's game is funding half our R&D," one said, nodding at Marina. "What's next, kid? Taking over Stark Industries?"
Alex's grin tightened. Stark. He'd watched Iron Man 3 trailers, knowing Tony was battling Mandarin this year. His Phase 4 knowledge mapped the MCU timeline: Thor: The Dark World in 2013, Captain America: The Winter Soldier in 2014, Thanos looming by 2018. His X-gene, awakened months ago, was his wildcard—a power to absorb energy, maybe enough to wield the Infinity Gauntlet. But the surges were getting worse, and last week's blackout had fried his old tablet.
"Stark's got competition," Alex said smoothly, deflecting. "Vance Tech's the future." The room clapped, but Marina's gaze lingered, probing.
After the meeting, Alex slipped to his private lab, a corner of Vance Technologies packed with servers and 3D printers. "VISTA, status on the shadow account," he whispered, locking the door.
"Clash of Clans revenue diverted: $12 million secured," VISTA's crisp voice replied through his earbuds. "Server upgrades complete—quantum encryption exceeds SHIELD protocols. Clash Royale prototype 60% coded."
Alex nodded, pulling up the Stark Expo model's data on a holographic display. The miniature city, decoded from his grandfather Elias's vault, held badassium's blueprint—a new element for an arc reactor. He'd paused the project after his X-gene surge, but the itch to build was unbearable. "Run the isotope sim again," he said, tweaking a holographic pavilion.
"Simulation complete," VISTA said. "Isotope stable, energy yield 420% above palladium. Warning: Your bio-energy readings are unstable. Surge risk elevated."
Alex ignored the warning, his fingers tracing the model's curves. The hum started, low at first, then rising like a storm. His skin prickled, gold light sparking at his fingertips. "Not now," he growled, clenching his fists. The lab's lights flickered, and a vision hit—purple Power Stone energy, a gauntlet's snap, Kang's cold stare from Loki. Alex staggered, gripping the desk.
"Neural activity spiking," VISTA warned. "Mental strain detected—theta waves erratic. Recommend immediate cessation."
The surge faded, but Alex's head throbbed, a migraine laced with What If…?-style glimpses: a multiverse fracturing, a Celestial's silhouette. "Mental strain," he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. His X-gene was omega-level, but the cost was clear—each surge brought nightmares, disorientation, a crack in his genius focus. "VISTA, log it. No word to Mom."
"Logged," VISTA said. "Kamar-Taj remains optimal for energy control. Mystic disciplines could mitigate strain."
Alex exhaled, slumping into a chair. Kamar-Taj meant leaving New York, delaying his reactor. But the surges were escalating, and he couldn't risk a meltdown at MIT, where he'd enroll next month. At 14, he'd be the youngest student ever, a cover to access cutting-edge labs while VISTA ran his game empire. "After MIT," he decided. "I'll finish the reactor, then find the Ancient One."
A knock startled him. "Alexei?" Marina's voice, muffled through the door. "You've been in there for hours."
Alex shoved the hologram off, heart racing. "Coming!" He unlocked the door, forcing a smile. Marina stood there, lab coat crisp, her blue eyes—his eyes—narrowed.
"Homework, huh?" she said, glancing at his tablet. "Your game's a goldmine, but you're pushing too hard. You look… pale."
"I'm fine, Mom," Alex lied, his headache pulsing. "Just excited for MIT." Marina's homeschooling had fast-tracked him, but her protectiveness was a problem. She didn't know about his transmigrator soul, the vault, or the X-gene. And she couldn't—not until he controlled his power.
Marina sighed, brushing his messy hair back. "You're too much like your grandfather. Elias burned himself out chasing impossible tech." Her voice softened. "Promise me you'll rest."
"Promise," Alex said, guilt twisting his gut. Elias had known Howard Stark, left the Expo model as a legacy. Was his X-gene tied to Elias's experiments? Or something… cosmic? His Celestial heritage, unknown to Ego, nagged at him.
As Marina left, Alex's tablet pinged—a hacker attack on Clash of Clans servers. "VISTA, trace it," he snapped, adrenaline spiking.
"Origin: encrypted, likely corporate espionage," VISTA said. "Signature matches AIM protocols—Advanced Idea Mechanics."
Alex's jaw clenched. AIM, from Iron Man 3, was active, led by Killian. A minor villain, but a threat to his empire. "Block them," he ordered. "And prep a counter-hack. They want my tech? They'll regret it."
"Counter-hack initiated," VISTA said. "Recommend caution—AIM has HYDRA connections."
Alex smirked, but his smirk faded as another vision flickered—Elara Quinn, auburn hair, a quantum sigil glowing. His mental strain was conjuring her, a woman he'd meet years later. "Focus," he growled, shutting it out. The hacker was a distraction, but MIT was his next step. The reactor, the suit, the Snap—they were his destiny.
He glanced at the Manhattan skyline, Avengers Tower piercing the night. Tony Stark was out there, clueless about the kid who'd one day save him. But in the cosmic vastness, a Celestial stirred, its gaze inching closer to the boy whose power was waking.