Scott Lang stood downstairs from an apartment building in San Francisco, gripping the slip of paper in his hand—but he didn't move.
He looked up at the third-floor window. The light was on. Through a gap in the curtains, he could see the silhouette of a girl moving around inside. About 1.65 meters tall, ponytail, wearing a school jacket.
Cassie.
His daughter.
Five years ago, she was still in elementary school. Now she was in high school.
Scott's throat tightened. He wanted to rush upstairs, knock on the door, hug her, tell her her dad was back. But he didn't move—because he didn't know how to explain it.
Hi Cassie, I was trapped in the Quantum Realm for five years, but it felt like five hours to me, so I still think you're eleven.
It sounded like a joke.
He stood there for ten minutes before finally pressing the doorbell.
The one who opened the door was Cassie's stepfather, Jim—a plain, honest-looking middle-aged man. The moment he saw Scott, he froze, his hand still on the doorknob.
"Scott?" Jim's voice was full of disbelief. "You… how are you—"
"Dad?"
Cassie's voice came from the stairs. She ran down and stopped behind Jim, staring wide-eyed at Scott.
After five years, she had grown taller. The baby fat on her face was gone—but her eyes were still the same.
"Cassie…" Scott's voice cracked.
She didn't say anything. She just rushed forward and threw her arms around him. Her shoulders trembled, and her tears quickly soaked into his clothes.
"I thought you disappeared too," she said, her voice muffled against his chest. "They all said you were dead, but I didn't believe it. I never believed it."
Scott closed his eyes and held her tightly. "I'm sorry, Cassie. I came back too late."
—
He stayed at Cassie's home for three hours. Jim and Maggie tactfully gave them space. Scott explained his past five years as simply as possible. He didn't mention the time discrepancy—only that he had been trapped somewhere and had just found a way out.
Cassie asked a lot of questions, but in the end, she simply held his hand and said:
"It's enough that you're back."
—
It was already 9 p.m. when Scott left the apartment.
Walking down the street, he took out the slip of paper again. He recognized the address—upstate New York, nearly five thousand kilometers from San Francisco.
He returned to the abandoned warehouse and retrieved the metal case from the van. Inside were six vials of Pym Particles, neatly arranged. Each contained less than ten milliliters of pale blue liquid, gently sloshing inside the glass.
This might be the last supply in the world.
Scott packed the case into his backpack, then dug out the Ant-Man suit's control wristband. Pressing the button, the suit unfolded from a coin-sized disk and enveloped his body.
Red and black suit. Helmet. Belt controls.
Everything still worked.
He took a deep breath, started the van, and drove toward the Avengers facility.
—
The Avengers facility was even more desolate than Scott had imagined.
He parked at the entrance and looked through the windshield. Silence. The once brightly lit complex now had only a few scattered windows glowing. The training grounds were overgrown with weeds, and Quinjet aircraft on the landing pad were coated in thick dust.
It looked like an abandoned graveyard.
Scott got out, slung the backpack over his shoulder, and walked to the main entrance. The security system was still functional. After scanning his retina, the screen displayed:
Visitor access. Please wait for confirmation.
Five minutes later, the doors finally opened.
Natasha Romanoff stood inside. Her hair was longer than before, tied into a loose ponytail. She wore a black jacket and held a cup of coffee. Her eyes looked tired—but still sharp.
"Scott Lang," she said, looking him over. "Levi said you'd come. I thought it'd be sooner."
"I went to see my daughter," Scott replied honestly.
Natasha nodded and stepped aside. "Come on. They're waiting."
—
Scott followed her through the facility. The hallways were empty. The Avengers logo on the walls had faded. Their group photo after the Battle of New York still hung there—but now it looked more like a memorial.
"How many people are left here?" Scott asked.
"Just us," Natasha answered briefly. "Rhodey drops by sometimes. Okoye sends updates from Wakanda occasionally. The others… are doing their own things."
"Steve?"
"Running a support group in Brooklyn. Helping people cope with losing loved ones to the Snap." Her voice was flat. "Ironic, isn't it? We couldn't save them—so now we teach them how to accept it."
Scott didn't respond.
—
They reached the meeting room. Natasha pushed the door open.
Three people were already inside.
Steve Rogers sat at one end of the table. He had grown a beard and wore a dark blue sweater, looking ten years older than before. When he saw Scott, he stood and gave a tired smile.
"Scott. Good to see you alive."
Bruce Banner sat opposite him—but Scott almost didn't recognize him. Banner was now a two-meter-tall green giant, wearing a custom plaid shirt and glasses, casually scrolling on a tablet with massive fingers.
"Hey, Scott," Banner waved. "Don't freak out. I'm the best of both worlds now—Hulk and Banner combined. You can call me… Professor Hulk."
Scott blinked, then nodded stiffly.
Levi stood by the window, his back to them. Hearing the door, he turned—his gaze immediately landing on Scott's backpack.
"You brought the Pym Particles?" he asked directly.
Scott hesitated, then took out the metal case and placed it on the table.
"Three vials here. These were all the backups Hank left at the Ant-Man facility. With the three you took earlier, that makes six total."
Banner immediately leaned in, carefully opening the case. His eyes lit up.
"Is this enough? If we're making multiple time jumps—"
"Not enough," Levi cut in. "Six vials support at most six round trips for one person. But we need to collect six Infinity Stones, each at different points in time."
Steve frowned. "Then what do we do?"
"Replicate them." Levi stepped forward, looking at the vials. "I provided the design principles. With the samples we already have, Tony Stark is reverse-engineering their molecular structure. If he succeeds, we can mass-produce them."
Scott's expression changed. "Wait—Hank spent decades perfecting that formula. What makes Tony think he can replicate it in days?"
"Because he's Tony Stark," Natasha said from the doorway. "And now he has a reason."
—
At that moment, the door opened again.
Tony Stark walked in, holding a holographic projector. He wore an old T-shirt and jeans, his hair messy, eyes bloodshot—but unusually bright.
"Sorry I'm late," he said, placing the projector on the table.
He activated it. A complex 3D model unfolded in midair, surrounded by streams of data and equations.
"What is that?" Steve asked.
"Time-space GPS," Tony said, excitement barely contained. "A navigation system for the Quantum Realm. It can pinpoint any moment and location in time. In theory, with the right coordinates, we can move through time like using a map app."
Banner stood up, studying the model. His expression shifted from surprise to admiration.
"Tony… this algorithm… how did you think of stabilizing temporal anchors with a Möbius strip model?"
"3 a.m. inspiration," Tony shrugged. "Plus coffee. And a very abstract drawing from Morgan."
Scott stared, completely lost. "So… this actually works?"
Tony turned to him, smiling tiredly but confidently. "In theory. But I need real data to confirm—and that's where you come in, Mr. Lang."
He pulled up another dataset.
"You spent five years in the Quantum Realm—even if it felt like five hours. That means your body retains traces of temporal dilation at the subatomic level. I need to scan you and extract that data to calibrate the system."
Scott instinctively stepped back. "Scan? How?"
"Relax, it doesn't hurt," Banner said, pulling out a handheld scanner. "Quantum-level bio scan. Ten minutes, tops. Just stand still."
Scott looked between Banner, Tony, and finally Levi.
Levi nodded.
"…Alright. Let's do it."
—
Banner activated the scanner. A pale blue beam swept slowly over Scott's body. He felt a faint prickling sensation, like tiny needles brushing against his skin.
"Stay still," Banner muttered, staring at the display. Then his brow furrowed. "This… isn't right."
Tony stepped closer. "What's wrong?"
"There's temporal distortion in his cells—but this frequency…" Banner zoomed in. "Look here. There's an anomalous resonance. It doesn't match standard Quantum Realm dilation."
Levi's gaze sharpened. He stepped closer, focusing on the waveform—a faint signal buried among normal data.
"Zoom in," he said.
Banner isolated and magnified it. At maximum amplification, a pattern emerged—a rhythmic pulse.
"…That's not natural," Tony narrowed his eyes. "That's artificial."
Scott blinked. "What does that mean?"
Levi didn't answer. Instead, he asked:
"Scott, the voice you heard in the Quantum Realm—what exactly was it?"
Scott frowned, trying to recall. "I… I'm not sure. It was faint. Like someone calling my name from far away. I thought it was a hallucination—there shouldn't be anyone else there."
"Janet," Levi said.
"Hank Pym's wife. Hope's mother. She spent thirty years in the Quantum Realm. If she vanished in the Snap, her consciousness might still remain there."
Silence fell over the room.
Steve spoke first. "You're saying… Janet might still be alive? In some form?"
"Possibly." Levi looked at Tony. "Can we track that signal?"
Tony typed rapidly on the holographic interface. After a few seconds, he shook his head.
"Too weak. And it's been five years—the residual resonance could fade at any time. But if we re-enter the Quantum Realm, we might trace the source."
Natasha crossed her arms. "So what's the plan? Search for a maybe-consciousness first, or start time travel?"
"Both," Levi said. "Tony—how long?"
Tony hesitated. "With the samples, I can finish reverse engineering and production in 48 hours. But the GPS needs a real test."
"Then we test it." Levi looked at Scott. "Can you go back in?"
Scott swallowed. He remembered the chaos, the warped space… and that faint voice.
"…If it helps us succeed, I'll do it."
Tony turned toward the window. "We test—but not yet. I need the particles first. A failed test wastes one vial. We only have six."
Banner nodded. "Agreed. We need preparation."
Steve stepped forward, staring at the six blue vials.
"…What else do we need?"
"People," Natasha said. "Even if we locate all six Stones, we don't have enough manpower. There are only six of us here—and Scott just got back."
"Where's Clint?" Steve asked.
"Tokyo. Or Mexico City. He's… changed." Natasha's voice was cold. "I tried calling. He doesn't answer."
"Thor?"
"New Asgard, Norway," Banner said. "But he's not in good shape."
Steve clenched his fists.
They had once been eight.
Now they were six.
"There's also Carol," Levi said suddenly. "Captain Marvel. If we contact her, she'll come."
Natasha shook her head. "We have a beacon—but it's for emergencies."
"Then we make it one." Levi looked at Tony. "You need 48 hours. That's enough time to gather everyone. Steve—get Clint. Natasha—bring Thor. I'll contact Carol."
Tony turned, a faint smirk on his face. "You're pretty used to giving orders, huh? This is the Avengers—not your command center."
Levi met his gaze calmly. "Then you lead. Tell us what to do."
Tony's expression froze. After a moment, he looked away.
"…Forget it," he said quietly. "You're right. I need to focus on the particles. Go find them. We regroup in two days."
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