It didn't take long.
By the time Raj and Peter left the construction site, sirens were already echoing in the distance—sharp and layered, the kind that belonged to more than just police. They had taken the long way around, cutting through alleyways and ducking into closed storefronts until they could breathe without concrete dust clogging their throats.
Now, less than an hour later, the site was cordoned off. Yellow tape had been replaced with something sterner—military-grade black fencing with heat sensors. Armed personnel in dark blue tactical uniforms prowled the perimeter, eyes scanning for witnesses, eyes that didn't blink nearly enough.
A flatbed truck parked nearby hummed faintly, carrying a deep-green containment module, cube-shaped and humming with electricity. An emblem on its side bore a stylized 'G' embedded in a hexagon—some government agency Peter had never seen before.
Three agents stood at the center of the crater Raj had made. The collapsed scaffold and scorched concrete bore silent witness to something impossible. One man, lean and sharp-eyed, knelt to examine a patch of melted steel rebar.
"Energy signature?" he asked, snapping his fingers without looking up.
A woman beside him held out a small scanner, shaped like a vertical smartphone crossed with a Geiger counter. It beeped erratically as she swept it over the rubble.
"Solar origin confirmed," she said. "Residual radiation spike is off the charts. UV intensity matches the midday sun… but concentrated. Almost surgical."
He stood, adjusting his coat. "And the origin point?"
"Dead center." She pointed at the scorched circle where Raj had landed. "Some sort of pulse. Controlled—but barely."
The third agent—a younger man, nervous and twitchy—stepped forward. "Sir, we've got three witness statements from the adjacent buildings. Civilians caught glimpses of someone glowing. Blurred video, phone recordings… already hitting private forums."
The lead agent exhaled sharply through his nose. "Of course they are. Mask it as a gas leak. Faked explosion. Blame it on shoddy construction and keep the narrative tight. Anyone from Stark's side sniffing around?"
"Negative. But drones are circling." The younger agent squinted at his tablet. "One's got a modified heat signature scanner. We think it's independent… not government-issued."
"Great." The leader turned, finally glancing at the sky. "First the Mjolnir anomaly last week, now this. Something's stirring."
The name hung in the air: Mjolnir.
Even without context, the weight of it settled over the group like thunderclouds waiting to burst. It wasn't just a codename. It was a warning.
Across town, Raj sat in Peter's room, curled up at the edge of the bed with his arms folded, his shirt still half-torn from the impact. The glow in his veins had faded, but the phantom heat still lingered beneath his skin.
Peter was pacing.
A small monitor had exploded from the shockwave Raj created. "You could've been—"
"I was fine," Raj muttered.
"You cracked concrete," Peter said, turning sharply. "You bent steel. With your shoulder. I checked—two girders snapped and rebounded like you were made of adamantium. That's not fine. That's Hulk-level."
Raj didn't answer.
A silence settled between them. Not angry. Just...heavy. The kind that followed near-disasters and impossible truths.
Eventually, Raj looked up. "They'll come for me now, won't they?"
Peter didn't say yes. He didn't need to.
Instead, he crossed the room, tossed Raj a towel, and sat in the desk chair. "We need to think. Strategize. Stay ahead of whatever those guys at the construction site were scanning for."
Raj dried his face, careful not to let his fingers linger too long in the mirror. He still didn't like what he saw when he glowed. It made him feel like something he didn't understand—like a loaded weapon built out of sunlight.
"Have you noticed," he asked quietly, "how this all started after the hammer?"
Peter blinked. "The crater in the desert? You think it's connected?"
Raj nodded slowly. "Energy disturbances, people glowing, weird tech following us around? Feels like too much coincidence."
Peter turned back to his laptop, pulling up the satellite feed. "They've increased drone coverage across New Mexico and the tri-state area. Guess who's paying for it?"
"Not the government?"
"Worse," Peter said, tapping the screen. "Private firms. Corporations with blank websites and military budgets. They're not waiting for answers. They're looking for people like you. Like us."
Raj frowned. "And what happens when they find us?"
Peter didn't respond.
Back at the construction site, the containment unit hissed open. The cube unfolded like origami, revealing a suspended sensor orb within. It floated up slowly, scanning the air, blinking soft green pulses.
One of the agents watched the readings and scowled. "The readings here… they're evolving. That pulse wasn't just power. It's growth. Like his body's still learning how to regulate the energy."
"You think he's still unstable?" the lead asked.
"I think he doesn't know what he is yet," she replied. "And that makes him dangerous."