Raj adjusted the straps on his borrowed backpack, the morning light casting long shadows across the construction site's outer fencing. Dust danced in the beams of sunlight cutting through the gaps in the wood. Peter stood beside him, goggles hanging from his neck and a duffel bag full of tools slung over one shoulder.
"Are you sure we're not trespassing?" Peter whispered, glancing at the "KEEP OUT" sign.
Raj grinned, his voice casual. "Technically? Probably. But the scaffolding's stable, and the security guy left thirty minutes ago for a smoke break three blocks away."
"You're a very confident lawbreaker," Peter muttered. "Not judging. Just... noting."
They stepped through the gate and into the skeletal framework of what was going to be a new Midtown parking deck. Sunlight speared through the rebar forest, and the whole site smelled of iron, cement, and half-finished ambition.
Raj pulled a rolled-up sketchbook from his backpack. "Okay. Training's good. But I need something else."
Peter raised an eyebrow. "A personal theme song?"
"A suit."
Peter blinked. "You want a suit?"
Raj nodded. "Yeah. Not like the shiny latex kind. I need something that works—something that contains the energy when I glow and doesn't turn to ash when I fly or get hit."
Peter stared for a moment longer, then gave a slow nod of approval. "Okay, that's actually... not dumb. That's smart. Practical. Got any ideas?"
Raj flipped open his sketchpad and revealed several rough drafts—some looking vaguely tactical, others more like body armor. All had one thing in common: layered core plating around the chest, segmented gauntlets, and heat-resistant fibers surrounding joints.
"I've been thinking about containment fields," Raj said, tapping the center of one sketch. "Maybe I can find a way to channel the solar radiation internally—regulate the output without flaring."
Peter whistled low. "You're talking about designing a suit that not only protects but controls energy flow. Stark-level tech."
"I don't need it to be perfect yet," Raj said. "Just safe. Functional."
As Peter thumbed through the pages, Raj found his thoughts drifting. He remembered sitting on the floor of his tiny room back in his old life, watching Spider-Man on a cracked tablet, too broke to buy popcorn but too mesmerized to care. He hadn't gotten far into the MCU before it all ended—before the truck, before the light, before waking up in this parallel version of Earth where heroes were real.
He hadn't even reached the first Avengers film.
So while Peter was a classmate here—awkward and way more sarcastic than any screen version—Raj still had no idea what came next. Who else was out there? What threats? What allies?
"Hey," Peter said, nudging him. "You okay?"
Raj blinked. "Yeah. Just... thinking."
Peter nodded as if he understood but didn't press. That was their unspoken agreement. Some things remained unsaid—for now.
Suddenly, a distant rumble broke the moment. The sky, which had been a soft blue, dimmed slightly. Raj and Peter both turned instinctively toward the source of the noise, eyes narrowing.
"Thunder?" Raj asked.
"Clear skies, no storm scheduled," Peter murmured.
Their phones buzzed simultaneously.
Peter pulled his out and read the alert. "'Unusual atmospheric disturbance reported in New Mexico. Please avoid vicinity of Puente Antiguo.' Huh."
Raj frowned. The name rang no bell.
Peter kept reading. "A crater appeared overnight in the middle of the desert. No sign of impact debris. But there's something glowing at the center."
The image was grainy, but even through the pixels, Raj could see the unmistakable glint of something ancient and powerful embedded in stone.
A hammer.
Raj's breath caught.
Meanwhile, in Puente Antiguo, New Mexico…
A crowd had formed. The makeshift perimeter buzzed with curious onlookers, government scientists, and agents in suits. Armed personnel circled a single glowing artifact at the heart of a crater, surrounded by stone and mystery.
And then, the wind shifted.
Thor strode through the crowd, shirt torn from an earlier scuffle, dirt smudged across his cheek. Jane Foster followed at a distance, unsure of whether to feel awe or worry.
He stepped into the crater slowly, as if entering a sacred chamber. His blue eyes locked onto the hammer—Mjolnir.
His breath trembled with anticipation.
Each step was heavy, resonant with memories: of Asgard's gleaming halls, of Odin's disappointment, of banishment.
He reached the stone. His hand extended.
The crowd quieted.
Mjolnir did not stir.
His fingers curled around the handle.
Nothing.
No thunder, no surge of energy, no warmth.
He pulled.
Still nothing.
With a grunt of effort and rising desperation, Thor tried again. And again.
The hammer refused to move.
His shoulders slumped. Around him, the watchers looked on—some in sympathy, others in confusion.
But Jane saw it clearly: the look of a god who had lost something more than a weapon. He had lost his worth.
Back in New York...
Peter exhaled. "You saw it too, right?"
Raj nodded, his voice quiet. "Yeah. That was... something else."
Peter flipped his phone closed. "Whatever that was, it's way out of our league."
"Maybe," Raj murmured, folding his sketchbook again. "Or maybe... it's just the beginning."
They sat in silence for a while, listening to the distant hum of city traffic.
Peter finally broke it. "So. Suit materials. I might have access to some Stark polymer fibers. You in?"
Raj smiled faintly. "Always."
That night, Raj sat alone in his room. The sketches were laid out across his bed. Designs, notes, possibilities.
He'd started with the idea of protecting others. Of not glowing like a beacon. Of safety.
But now... now there was something more.
A pull in his chest. A knowing.
He didn't want to be a symbol, or a god, or a hero worshipped in stories.
He just wanted control. A path. A purpose.
Somewhere out there, a hammer had fallen from the sky. Someone had tried to claim it and failed.
Raj didn't know if he was meant to lift hammers or fight gods.
But he could build.
And tomorrow, he would begin.
Outside, thunder cracked—soft, distant.
Raj smiled and turned back to his work.