"Let's welcome… the speedster from Sokovia—Pietro!"
The host hadn't even finished the sentence—
Whoosh!
Pietro vanished.
All that remained on stage was a silver afterimage, like a torn streak of lightning.
One second later, he reappeared exactly where he'd been standing.
In his hands were three items:
Tony Stark's sunglasses.
Steve Rogers's vibranium shield.
And the unopened bottle of whiskey sitting in front of Jessica Jones.
Pietro casually set the items down at his feet, arms crossed, expression arrogant.
The venue went dead silent for three full seconds.
Then—
The crowd exploded.
"So fast! I couldn't even see him move!"
"Holy hell—is that Speed Force-level speed?!"
The audience erupted into chaos.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
All three mentor lights slammed on simultaneously.
A speedster of this caliber was a strategic asset no team could ignore.
"Kid," Tony said, pushing his messed-up hair back, "give me my sunglasses. You ruined my hairstyle—but I'll admit it. You're faster than my Mark armor. Join my team, and I'll make you even faster."
"No."
Pietro's answer was ice-cold.
He glanced at Steve.
"Not you either."
Finally, his gaze settled on Jessica. He picked up the whiskey and placed it neatly back on her desk.
"I'm joining your team."
His reasoning was simple.
Back in Sokovia, he'd studied everything he could find about the woman once called Queen Jones—now Jewel. She was Antony's closest partner. There were even rumors she was his lover.
If Pietro wanted to get close to Antony…
If he wanted to tear down this hypocritical superhero empire from the inside—
Jessica Jones was the perfect entry point.
Jessica raised an eyebrow, lifting the whiskey bottle.
"Smart choice. Welcome aboard, Pietro."
…
If Pietro was the coolest contestant of the night, then the next one was the most… indescribable.
"Hey everyone! It's your friendly neighborhood—Captain Logan!"
Upbeat pop music blasted through the speakers as Wade Wilson burst onto the stage in a red-and-black bodysuit, hips swaying wildly.
🎵 "I wanna see you out that door—baby bye bye bye!" 🎵
He danced like his life depended on it.
The director was forced to cut to close-ups.
Steve stared, visibly shaken.
"What… kind of dance is that?"
"It looks… energetic?"
"I don't know who he is," Tony said, nodding along, "but that's a solid performance. I gotta admit—kid's got an amazing ass. Almost rivals yours, Cap."
Wade struck pose after pose before finishing with a dramatic butt grab.
"Thank you! Thank you! I'm Wade! But you can call me the sexy guy in red spandex!"
Suddenly, he gasped dramatically, pointing at Steve.
"Oh my GOD! It's Captain America! In the flesh! Alive!!"
"Cap, I'm your biggest fan! I've read all your comics! I even bought your underwear—I know we wear the same size!"
He snapped into the worst salute humanity had ever witnessed.
"Sir! Can you say 'Avengers, assemble' for me?!"
Steve's soul visibly left his body.
"Uh… hello, Wade. Your dancing was… very enthusiastic."
Jessica cut in flatly.
"What's your ability—besides talking nonstop and shaking your ass?"
"Oh! Great question, Your Majesty!"
Wade drew two katanas in a blur—
—and stabbed them straight into his own ribs.
SHHK! SHHK!
Blood splattered. The audience screamed.
"Relax! Relax!" Wade spun in place. "Two knives in the ribs—symbol of loyalty! Touching, right?"
He pulled the blades out.
The wounds closed instantly. No blood. No scars.
"Ta-da! Brand new me!"
Tony slammed his button.
"I like this guy. He's funny. My team needs a comedian."
Jessica hit hers too.
"Annoying—but that healing factor is insane."
Only Steve didn't press his button.
"Sorry, Wade. I'm not recruiting entertainers."
"My heart—shattered!" Wade clutched his chest dramatically.
"Come on," Tony said. "I've got money. Lots of it. Gold-plated swords, unlimited ammo."
"Money?"
Wade's tears vanished instantly.
He turned to Jessica.
"You got money?"
"I've got fists."
"…Sorry, Queen."
"DAD! IRON MAN DAD! I'M YOURS! I'M MOVING INTO STARK TOWER! WE'RE SHOWERING TOGETHER!"
"I take it back," Tony muttered.
"Too late! Contract sealed!"
Deadpool lunged for a hug and was immediately blasted away by a repulsor.
"Keep your distance. You'll get blood on my armor."
The crowd lost it.
That night, Who Is the Next Superhero? shattered every ratings record.
-----
Meanwhile…
In the realm of gods—Asgard.
The tone couldn't have been more different.
It had been nearly a month since Antony had been "accidentally" transported there via the Bifrost.
Life was… surprisingly comfortable.
Officially under house arrest—but Odin clearly didn't want to push the so-called "God of Earth" too far. As long as Antony stayed away from restricted areas, he had near-total freedom.
And more importantly—
He'd found himself a powerful ally.
Queen Frigga.
Purely platonic. Absolutely.
"Magic isn't heat vision," Frigga said gently, book in hand.
"You can't force it with anger. Magic is will. You guide it."
Antony sat cross-legged on the grass, holding half a golden apple.
These things were incredible.
Sweet, rich—and each bite left a faint trace of magic inside him. Tiny, yes, but magic was magic.
"Willpower…" Antony closed his eyes.
He focused on the spell Frigga had been teaching him—
Space-Folding Technique.
Hmmm…
The air rippled.
Golden light shimmered at his fingertips.
The space before him warped like water, forming a transparent hollow visible only to him.
"Go."
He tossed the remaining half of the golden apple inside.
It vanished.
He snapped his fingers.
The apple reappeared in his hand.
Antony's eyes flew open.
"…It worked."
A slow grin spread across his face.
--------------
T/N:
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