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The world shattered in an instant.
The door crashed open. Men in black combat gear flooded the room, their weapons gleaming under the dim lantern light. My mother barely had time to react before one of them grabbed her by the arm and yanked her back.
She screamed.
I froze.
No. No. No. This isn't supposed to happen yet.
I always knew Sokovia would fall. I always knew war would take my mother. But not this soon.
My body trembled, caught between the mind of a child and the soul of a man who had seen this play out before.
One of the soldiers pointed a rifle at me. "Step away from the boy."
The man holding my mother snarled, "We only need the woman. Kill the kid."
My breath hitched.
No.
Not like this.
My mother thrashed against the soldier's grip, her eyes wild. "Don't touch him! He's just a child!"
The man didn't care. His finger moved toward the trigger.
I moved first.
I grabbed the nearest object—an old radio I had been fixing—and hurled it at him. It wasn't much, but it was enough to throw his aim off. The bullet missed me by inches, shattering a wooden shelf behind me.
"Run, Arjun!" my mother screamed.
My legs wouldn't move.
The soldier's eyes burned with fury as he raised his gun again. This time, there was no one to stop him.
Bang.
The gunshot echoed like thunder.
My mother gasped, her body jerking violently.
My mind went blank.
No. No. No.
She fell to her knees, clutching her stomach. Blood bloomed across her dress, spreading like ink in water.
I ran to her, collapsing beside her as she struggled to breathe. Her hand reached for me, weak and trembling.
I grabbed it.
Tears blurred my vision. "M-Mama—"
Her fingers brushed against my cheek. Even in pain, she smiled. "My… genius boy…" Her voice was barely a whisper. "Be strong."
Then… nothing.
Her hand fell limp.
And she was gone.
I stopped breathing.
The soldier scoffed, stepping closer. "Annoying little brat." He raised his gun.
I didn't care anymore.
I wanted him to pull the trigger.
But before he could—
BOOM.
The house exploded.
---
The world spun. My ears rang. Smoke choked my lungs.
I was on the ground, my vision swimming as I tried to make sense of what just happened.
Then I heard shouting.
Gunfire.
Screams.
The militants were under attack. But by who?
I forced myself to move, crawling toward the wreckage. My mother's body was buried under debris. My chest ached, but there was no time to grieve.
I had to survive.
Footsteps approached.
I looked up and saw a man in a dark suit, his eyes sharp behind a pair of tinted glasses. He wasn't Sokovian. He wasn't a militant.
He was American.
And he wasn't alone. More men in suits stood behind him, some with weapons drawn, others speaking into earpieces.
One of them spotted me.
"Sir, we found the boy."
The man in glasses knelt beside me. His gaze was unreadable, but I saw recognition in his eyes.
Like he had been looking for me.
"Arjun Stark," he murmured.
This was something I came to know a few years back.
Turned out that I was an illegitimate son of one of the major heroes of Marvel Universe, Iron Man, AKA Tony Stark.
Guess I know whom I got the intelligence from.
We never made contact with him though. My mother always said Tony left her when she needed him the most, and she was pregnant with me later. This was on the day she broke up with him.
But there weren't anyone who knew this, except my mother and me.
So, when I heard this guy saying my full name,
I flinched.
He knew.
I tried to push myself up, but my body was too weak. My mind screamed at me to run, to fight, to do something.
The man sighed. "You're coming with us."
Then, everything went black.
---
I woke up in a moving vehicle.
The seats were leather. The air smelled of expensive cologne. Outside, the landscape blurred past, unfamiliar and desolate.
I wasn't in Sokovia anymore.
I sat up, my head pounding. My hands were bound with zip ties. Across from me sat the man in glasses.
He watched me with quiet interest.
"Where am I?" I asked, my voice hoarse.
"Somewhere safe," he said simply. "You don't need to worry about the people who attacked your village. They've been dealt with."
I didn't believe him.
I glared at him. "Who are you?"
He smirked. "I have many names, but you can call me Agent Graves."
My stomach twisted. That name didn't exist in the MCU.
He wasn't SHIELD. He wasn't HYDRA.
He was something else.
"I know what you're thinking," Graves said, leaning back. "Why are we interested in you?"
I stayed silent.
He chuckled. "You're special, Arjun. Not just because of your mind. But because of your bloodline."
My heart pounded.
He knows.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, keeping my face blank.
Graves tilted his head. "Don't you? You look just like him."
I clenched my fists.
Tony Stark.
Graves leaned forward, his smirk widening. "Tell me, Arjun… have you ever wondered why you're so smart? Why you think differently from others?"
I swallowed hard.
"You weren't meant for a small village in Sokovia," Graves said. "You were meant for greatness."
I gritted my teeth. "I don't need greatness."
"Maybe not. But the world does." He studied me. "You're valuable, kid. People will come for you. People far worse than those militants."
I narrowed my eyes. "And you? What do you want from me?"
He smiled. "I want to offer you a choice."
I stiffened.
"Come with us," Graves said. "Learn. Grow. Become something more."
I didn't trust him. But I had no options.
Sokovia was gone. My mother was dead.
And I was alone.
I took a deep breath. "Where are you taking me?"
Graves' smirk deepened.
"To America."
---