Ed's POV
It's almost time for the interview. I'm already suited up—hero attire and all—but right now, I'm in the lab.
You might be wondering why.
Simple: Parasite.
I'm nearly done with his cure. Yeah. After all this time… I finally figured it out.
Honestly, I forgot how frustrating it is to work on someone like him. His biology is chaos—constantly absorbing energy, always destabilizing. I actually had to track down the exact chemical compounds that originally triggered his mutation just to reverse-engineer a fix.
It was annoying.
And maybe I got a little arrogant. Thought I was too smart now to struggle with something like this. I should've started with the basics from the beginning. Could've cured him months ago.
But to be fair… I've had a lot on my plate. So, better late than never.
Either way, the cure is almost ready.
Parasite's tired—exhausted, really. Always hungry. Always hurting. That's what it's like for him… constant starvation. And he's had to live like that for months.
Part of me almost feels bad for him.
Almost.
If he hadn't caused the accident that made him this way, maybe I'd feel more. But still… maybe this experience will change him. Maybe this is his second chance.
And maybe, just maybe, he'll take it.
While I was putting the finishing touches on Parasite's cure, the lab doors slid open. Nooroo floated in, as always, right beside Marlize. The two had grown close—real friends—and honestly, I was glad I gave Marlize Nooroo Miraculous. It suits her.
And thank god that thing doesn't leave the island. I don't even want to imagine what would happen if it fell into the wrong hands.
"Hey, you two," I said, glancing up. "What brings you here?"
Marlize gave a small smile. "I've been working on a small experiment of my own. Nooroo just likes to keep me company—and I really appreciate him for that."
"She forgets to eat sometimes," Nooroo added, hovering beside her shoulder. "She's been laser-focused on her work, so I make sure she takes breaks."
"That's kind of you," I said, nodding. "It's good to have someone looking out for you."
"Of course," Nooroo said proudly. "We're partners, after all."
"That we are, Nooroo." Marlize nodded in agreement. Then she checked her watch and raised an eyebrow. "Speaking of time… shouldn't you be at your interview? You've only got ten minutes left."
I blinked and glanced at the clock. She was right.
"Wow—I got way too wrapped up with Parasite," I said. "Thanks for the reminder."
I turned to Marlize. "Hey—do me a favor? This is almost done. Just needs a couple more ingredients added and some stabilization. It's the cure for Parasite."
"No problem," she said. "I'll handle it. Now go!"
"Thank you, Marlize. You're a lifesaver—figuratively and literally," I said, grinning as I bolted out of the lab.
April O'Neil – POV
"Okay, people! He's almost here—Arsenal should be arriving any minute now, so get everything ready!" Cat Grant yelled, practically vibrating with adrenaline.
I popped a handful of popcorn into my mouth, watching her bark orders at the crew like a general leading a media battalion. "Wow. This is probably the first time I've seen Cat Grant look nervous," I muttered.
"I know, right?" Winn added from beside me, wide-eyed. "This is crazy… and also kind of entertaining. Just hope she doesn't catch us laughing."
"Can you two not?" Kara cut in, arms crossed, clearly trying to maintain some kind of emotional order. "This is a big deal. Miss Grant is about to interview Arsenal—the second most powerful hero in the entire world."
I smiled. "Calm down, Kara. I've met him firsthand. He's cool. Very chill. Down-to-earth, actually."
Winn leaned forward, curious. "How did you even convince him to agree to an interview?"
"I have my ways," I said with a teasing smile, giving absolutely no further explanation.
They both rolled their eyes but chuckled anyway.
Still… that small twist of guilt in my chest hadn't gone away. Not for days.
It's hard keeping secrets. Especially from Kara and Winn.
They don't know I've been spying on Kara. They don't know I've been lying about how I know Arsenal. And they definitely don't know that Arsenal is really Edward Valtheris—the same guy they've seen on news reports as the CEO of Omnitech Nexus, the "Bringer of Peace."
It's wild, really. Winn's such a huge fan of both Ed and Arsenal—doesn't even realize they're the same person. Part of me wants to laugh at how blind he is, but most of me just feels... guilty.
I wish I could tell them the truth. About Arsenal. About me. About the fact that I'm not even from this world.
But I can't. Not yet.
They'd feel betrayed. And I wouldn't blame them.
I keep telling myself it's for the greater good. That holding onto these secrets protects everyone. That it's necessary.
But lately… telling myself that doesn't feel as good as it used to.
"Hey, April, is that some popcorn? Please tell me that's real butter on it," said a voice I definitely recognized behind me.
I turned around—and there he was.
Ed. Or, well… Arsenal. In full gear.
Winn and Kara turned around too. I caught their reactions out of the corner of my eye—and they were both shocked, but for very different reasons.
For Winn, it was pure fanboy disbelief. Mouth open, eyes wide—like he couldn't believe Arsenal was standing this close to him.
For Kara… it was confusion. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and I realized something.
She hadn't heard him. Not at all.
And this is Kara Danvers we're talking about. Super hearing. The fact that he snuck up right behind us without triggering her senses? That said something.
"Of course," I replied, offering the popcorn with a grin. "Want some?"
"I'm good," Arsenal said. "Hard to eat with the mask on."
Then he looked straight at Winn.
"You must be Winn. April's mentioned you."
"She did?" Winn blinked rapidly.
"Yep. And Kara too. Don't worry—all good things," Arsenal said with a casual nod.
Winn leaned toward me, whispering, "Cool. Arsenal knows me by name."
I raised an eyebrow. "You do know he has super hearing, right? He can totally hear you."
"I could," Arsenal said, amused. "But I try not to abuse that power."
Before we could continue, someone in the crowd suddenly shouted—
"Oh my god—it's Arsenal!"
We all turned around. Finally, the rest of the room noticed he was here. Took them long enough. The guy's pretty hard to miss.
Everyone was stunned—even Cat. Though, in true Cat Grant fashion, she only let it show for a second before snapping back to boss mode.
"Hey, sorry if I'm late," Arsenal said, stepping forward. "Hope I made it in time."
"Don't be ridiculous," Cat replied, already shifting into professional mode. "You're right on time. Come on—take a seat. We're about to go live in a few minutes. We just need to get you mic'd up."
"Got it," he said, following her toward the stage setup.
For context: we weren't at CatCo. Cat wanted a bigger space for the interview, so she used one of the buildings she owns. Full production setup—lights, cameras, the whole deal. She even had a sleek little set built: two couches facing each other with a small desk between them.
Ed's POV
I sat down on one of the sleek couches, my suit immaculate, posture relaxed but sharp. Across from me, Cat Grant sat with her usual air of confidence. The lights were bright, cameras positioned, everything ready. The interview was seconds from going live.
"This will be simple," Cat said, adjusting her mic. "I'll ask a few questions. You answer what you can, and if there are things you'd rather not answer—I'll respect that."
"Thank you, Cat," I replied with a polite nod. "There are a few things I'd prefer to keep private, but I'll do my best to answer as honestly as I can."
"Alright—3, 2, 1," the cameraman counted down.
The red light blinked on.
"Hello, National City—and the world. I'm Cat Grant, and today I have the honor of interviewing Arsenal, widely regarded as the most powerful hero on Earth."
I let out a small chuckle. "I appreciate the compliment, Cat, but I'd say I'm the second most powerful. Superman still has me beat in raw strength."
Cat tilted her head with a slight smirk. "Really? That's surprising, considering how many powers you're rumored to have. Which actually brings me to my first question—how many powers do you have, exactly?"
I smiled a little. "Well, power isn't everything. And Superman's been doing this hero thing a lot longer than I have. But… to answer your question honestly? I lost count a while ago."
That got a reaction—not just from Cat, but from everyone in the building. I could practically feel Kara's eyebrows shooting up from the crowd.
"You lost count?" Cat repeated, surprised. "Alright, give us your best estimate."
I leaned back just slightly. "Over a hundred. Give or take."
Of course, that was a lie—well, mostly. It was a good way to cover powers I haven't publicly revealed yet… including a few I plan to steal from mutants in the future.
Cat blinked. "That's… incredible. But how do you even have so many powers?"
"It happens randomly," I said with a shrug. "Some days, I'll wake up and suddenly I can control fire. Another day, I'll sneeze and icicles shoot out of my nose. One time, I left the stove on and grabbed the burner by accident. Didn't even feel it."
I gave a small grin. "The powers come unpredictably—but I train every single one to make sure I don't hurt anyone by accident."
"That's incredible," Cat said, impressed. "So it's possible you might surpass Superman one day?"
"It's a possibility," I admitted. "But that's far off. Today, I'm just doing my best."
"Fair enough," she said. "Next question—and I admit, this one might be a little bold: what are you?"
That one caught me a little off guard. Not offensive—but I wasn't expecting it so early.
"I'm Black," I said casually, then added with a small smile, "To be specific, African-American."
Cat blinked again, a little thrown. "No, no—I meant species-wise. Are you a mutant? An alien? Or human?"
"Ohhh," I said with a chuckle. "Got it. I'm a mutant. Not an alien."
Then my tone softened slightly. "And for the record… I'd really prefer people not draw hard lines between humans and mutants. We're the same species."
"Can you elaborate on that?" Cat asked, now clearly leaning in with curiosity.
"Sure. There's something called the X-Gene. When it activates, it can give someone powers, or sometimes cause physical mutations. Sometimes it's a gift. Sometimes… it's a burden. But it's natural. It's human."
"But not all humans have the X-Gene, right? It's a select group?" Cat asked.
I shook my head. "That's a common misconception. Every human has the X-Gene. For most, it never activates. But it's there. And if not in you… it could activate in your children."
She blinked, processing. "Wait… are you saying I have the X-Gene?"
"Yes," I said calmly. "You—and everyone else on the planet."
"Wow… that's a lot to take in," Cat said, her voice quieter now, more thoughtful.
"Yeah, I know," I replied, nodding. "And I get it—some people might not even believe it. But it's true. Every human being carries the X-Gene. That's why it hits me so hard when I see these hateful groups out there… hunting down mutants for no reason other than fear. Or jealousy."
I paused, letting the weight of that hang.
"It's sad. These people didn't choose this. They didn't ask to be born with powers—or with differences."
Cat's expression darkened slightly as she leaned in.
"I agree," she said. "A few years ago, I saw something on the news—mutant teenagers. Strung up in a tree. Hunted, lynched. They were just kids. Their lives hadn't even started yet.
And I remember… I looked at that story and thought of my own child. It sickened me. That someone could look at a child and see a threat instead of a person."
I let out a slow breath. "That's why I'm here, Cat. That's why I do what I do."
I looked right at the camera now.
"I'm going to fight for everyone on this planet. But I want to be crystal clear—I will protect every single mutant being hunted, harmed, or targeted by humans who let fear guide them. These people didn't choose this. It just happened. And when someone tries to take their lives because of that? That makes me angry.
And when I'm angry—I act."
"I'm really glad to hear that from you," Cat said sincerely. "I truly hope we never have to see kids being killed just for existing again. But now I'm curious—are all of your teammates mutants?"
"Not all," I replied. "Not including myself, there are only two other mutants on the team right now. But they're not heroes yet."
"Oh? So they've got powers but haven't gone public?" she asked.
"Correct," I said with a small smile. "And I'm afraid I can't tell you who they are or what they can do."
Cat nodded, understanding. "Alright, fair enough. But how did you find all these people? How do you go about building a team like that?"
"Well," I said, "let's just say I'm very good with computers… and I happen to know a very talented detective."
She raised a brow. "You're dodging a lot, but I respect it. So what can you tell me? I'm sure everyone watching wants to know more about your teammates."
I gave a thoughtful nod. "Sure. I won't get too personal, but I can share a few things. Which one would you like to hear about first?"
"All Might," Cat said, her eyes lighting up. "Now that's someone I'd like to know more about. People call him the 'Symbol of Peace.' What's he like? And how did you get him on your team?"
I smiled. "All Might? He's actually pretty simple, really. He's... old. And when I say old, I mean old. But he's got the heart of a real hero, pure, honest, and hopeful. The kind of heart a real hero needs."
I paused, then added, "He's taught me a few things about being a hero myself. I respect him. A lot."
"That's amazing to hear," Cat said genuinely. "But I've always been curious. When he first appeared, he could only be a hero for a few hours a day. Then suddenly, he was out there all day, every day. What changed?"
"Yeah, that's true," I nodded. "He was seriously injured, so injured that using his powers for extended periods made him cough up blood. It was painful—and dangerous."
Cat's eyes widened slightly.
"But even with that," I continued, "he still stood tall. Still smiled. Still fought. That's who he is."
I let the silence hold for just a second before adding:
"But that's changed now. I healed him. Repaired the damage. That's why he's able to be out there longer—because he doesn't have to fight against his own body anymore."
"Wow, that's incredible," Cat said. "But how did All Might get that injured in the first place? And how exactly did you heal him?"
"Sorry," I said with a polite smile. "Can't share that. There are just some things the public doesn't need to know."
"A shame," she replied, nodding in understanding. "Alright, then let's move on—let's talk about Starlight. She's been doing a lot of good in L.A. lately. Why did she move away from New York?"
"I moved her," I answered. "New York has too many heroes as it is. I wanted her somewhere where she could make a real difference. Somewhere heroes aren't as common."
"Well, I'd say that was a smart call," Cat said. "The crime rate in Los Angeles has dropped significantly since she got there."
"Starlight was always someone who wanted to use her powers for good," I said. "She's got the heart for it. She doesn't do this for the fame or the cameras. She does it because it's right."
"That's good of her," Cat said with a nod. "Now, can we talk about A-Train?"
"Sure," I replied. "What do you want to know about him?"
"Well," Cat began, "he has to be a father, right?"
That one caught me off guard.
"He's not," I said, raising a brow. "Where'd you get that idea?"
"There are a lot of videos of him online," she explained. "Helping kids, playing with them… There are entire theory threads suggesting he has children of his own."
"Oh. Well, I can see why people might think that—but no, he's not a father. He's just really good with kids."
"Well, that's a surprise—but a pleasant one," Cat said with a smile. "Now, here's another question. One that's very important…"
She leaned in.
"Is he single?"
I blinked, then grinned. "Yes, he's single. Why? Are you trying to date one of my team members?"
"Maybe," she said, teasing.
I laughed. "Alright then—I'll put in a good word for you."
"Haha, please do," Cat said with a wink. "Now, let's get back to the interview."
"Sure thing. I've got two more teammates left. Want me to talk about them together?"
"Yes, please."
I nodded. "Alright—Green Ghost and Silent."
"Green Ghost is amazing. She's one of those people who really grows on you once you get to know her. She's got a strong sense of responsibility and takes the hero work very seriously. She's also extremely loyal—especially to A-Train. Those two have a strong friendship. She'll drop everything to help one of her teammates, no matter what city they're in."
"And then there's Silent…"
My voice softened a bit.
"She's efficient. Tactical. Crazy tough. But she's also kind—in this quiet, unexpectedly sweet kind of way. She doesn't talk—not because she's mute, but because something happened in her past. Something that made her choose silence."
"I've been trying to help her work through it. It's slow progress, but… she's worth the time."
"Wow. That's very kind of you," Cat said. "You're clearly a good team leader. But I'm curious—and I'm sure everyone watching is too—what's the name of your team?"
"It's called the Vanguard Initiative," I replied.
"That's an interesting name," she said.
"Thank you. It actually has meaning," I continued. "Vanguard represents us being at the forefront of Earth's protection. Always on the front lines, always pushing forward. Initiative stands for our commitment to constant growth, innovation, and making the world a better place."
"Wow… I like that," Cat said thoughtfully. "So, does that mean you're open to recruiting people?"
"Yes," I said. "I'm always on the lookout for people who want to use their powers—or skills—for good. In fact, I already have some individuals in training right now. They're not heroes yet, but they're getting there."
"Training?" Cat echoed, intrigued.
I nodded. "Yes. I don't just hand someone a suit and throw them into the field. I put them through tests—scenarios. I need to see if they're mentally, emotionally, and physically ready. Because if I send out untrained heroes? They could end up doing more harm than good."
Cat gave an approving smile. "That's a smart call, Arsenal. I think a lot of people will feel relieved knowing that you take the time to make sure your team is ready—that they don't just have power, but discipline."
"Now I'm curious about something else," Cat said, shifting slightly on the couch. "Your teammates—the other heroes—they appeared first. You were the last one to go public. I'm sure the world's been wondering why."
"Well," I said, "it's simple—I had to make sure our base was secure. There were a lot of systems to set up—identity protection protocols, emergency fallback tech, the works. I needed to make sure everyone was protected before I stepped out into the spotlight."
"Two doctors and some advanced robots were seen by victims during earlier incidents," Cat added. "Are those two doctors part of your hero team?"
"They are," I confirmed. "And for obvious reasons, I advised them to keep their identities hidden."
"I'm well aware," Cat said. "I interviewed some of the people they saved. But having doctors on your team—that's unique. So I have to ask… is there anyone else behind the scenes?"
"Yes," I said. "Aside from the field team, I also have doctors, scientists, and inventors working with us. They're just as important as the ones out in the field. And like the heroes, they're compensated very well."
Cat tilted her head. "Wait. You pay your teammates?"
"Of course," I said. "They may want to be heroes—but they still deserve to live normal lives. Stable lives. Security, comfort… all of it."
"And… how much are they getting paid?" she asked cautiously.
"About $500 an hour," I said casually. "That includes everyone who works for me—whether they're in the field or in the lab."
The silence in the room was instant. Everyone in the studio looked shocked—well, almost everyone. April didn't even flinch.
Cat blinked, stunned. "That's… a lot of money. How are you able to pay them that much every single day?"
I grinned just a little. "Well… I'm very, very, very rich. That kind of payout doesn't even make a dent in my wallet."
Then I raised my hand and lightly touched the table between us.
With a soft shimmer, the entire table turned into solid gold.
Cat's jaw dropped. "Oh my God—is that real gold?!"
"Yes," I said calmly. "Of course it is. It's one of my more unique abilities. But I use it carefully. Don't want to crash the global economy."
Third Person POV
"Wait a minute... he pays them $500 an hour? He only pays me a hundred! What about you guys—how much does he pay you?" Ted asked, turning to the others with a frown.
"Ed pays Ice Bear $500 an hour," Ice Bear said calmly, not looking away from the TV.
"Same here," Panda added, sipping his drink. "Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't know. Then again… you barely work. You spend half your shift drinking at the bar you're supposed to be managing."
"He pays me the same," Escanor chimed in from behind the bar. "But I told him to scale it back a bit. I've got my own bar now, and business is doing quite well."
The four of them—Ted, Ice Bear, Panda, and Escanor—were currently sitting inside Escanor bar, watching Ed's live interview on one of the big screens mounted above the counter.
It had become their unofficial meetup spot when they weren't on duty.
Of course, to everyone else in the bar, they looked like ordinary humans.
Thanks to a glamour charm Sabrina crafted, the trio of talking animals—Ted the teddy bear, Panda, and Ice Bear—were disguised with magical illusions that made them appear human. No panicked civilians, no viral videos—just three "regular guys" hanging out at a bar.
Though, for some reason, Ted's glamour made him look exactly like Seth MacFarlane.
As they watched the broadcast, Cat Grant and Arsenal continued their conversation—now diving into Ed's rescue operation and the inner workings of the Vanguard Initiative.
In a secret underground base, lies the real Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
"Wow," Natasha muttered, arms crossed as she leaned against the wall. "His team gets paid that much? Is it too late to switch jobs?"
"I mean," Clint added, watching the screen, "if that's just the pay, I'm kind of curious what the benefits look like."
Nick Fury didn't even turn from the monitor. "Really hope my two best agents aren't thinking about switching teams over a paycheck. Let's not forget—Arsenal's still an unknown. Unpredictable."
"Of course not," Natasha said with a smirk. "I'm just... evaluating options."
"Sir," GI Robot suddenly chimed in, standing stiffly at attention. "Is this Arsenal a Nazi?"
"No, GI Robot," Maria Hill replied, deadpan. "He's a hero."
The robot's shoulders slumped slightly. "Oh. That's a shame. GI Robot was promised Nazi targets. Director Fury said I could kill Nazis. It has been months since reactivation. Zero Nazis."
Clint leaned toward Maria and whispered, "We really need to program that guy a hobby."
They were gathered in a secure, off-grid S.H.I.E.L.D. black site—one of Fury's personal sanctums. No fancy name, no public trace. Just Fury, his top agents, and a few trusted analysts, all watching Arsenal's live interview.
Even though they were working together to take down Hydra, Fury didn't trust easily—and Arsenal was still mostly a mystery.
And this interview? It was the perfect chance to learn something new.
"GI Robot does have a hobby," the Robot announced suddenly. "It is painting."
Everyone in the room turned to stare—blinking in surprise.
Everyone except Fury.
"Wait a minute," Coulson said slowly. "You… paint?"
"Yes," GI Robot replied proudly. "I have painted over one hundred portraits. Would you like to see one? It is titled: 'GI Robot and Friend Maria Killing Nazis Together.'"
Coulson blinked. "...Okay, that makes sense now."
"Not just Friend Maria," GI Robot clarified. "I have painted everyone. Friend Coulson. Friend Natasha. Friend Clint. Some portraits are just me and one friend. Others show all of us—working together, storming bunkers, liberating camps."
He paused, voice rising with emotion.
"My favorite painting is of us taking down a massive Nazi base. It is beautiful. And bloody. I cannot wait to live that moment in reality. Sending Nazis straight to hell with my friends."
There was a brief silence.
Then Maria nodded slowly. "We can't wait to do that with you too, GI. But we need to be patient. If we strike too soon, they'll go underground—and we might not find them all."
GI Robot nodded solemnly. "Friend Maria is correct. GI Robot will be patient. While we wait… I shall paint more. More of us. More Nazi destruction."
Clint leaned toward Coulson. "I'm terrified and touched at the same time."
Natasha sipped her coffee. "I'm just wondering if he takes commissions."
In a cozy apartment in Metropolis, two people sat on a couch, watching the same live interview the rest of the world was tuned into.
"So… he's not a Kryptonian," Lois Lane said, leaning back with a smirk. "Hate to break it to you, Smallville, but I called it."
Clark Kent let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. "Yeah, I know. Honestly, I didn't expect him to be one either. He's got powers even I don't have… but still, part of me was hoping. Hoping he might've been from Krypton. Someone I could talk to—really talk to."
Lois nudged him gently. "Hey. Who knows? Maybe there are other Kryptonians out there. Besides your cousin, I mean. Maybe not on Earth—but somewhere in space. Just... have a little hope, Clark."
He looked at her, eyes soft behind his glasses. "Hope's all I've got. But truthfully? I'm okay if I never find another Kryptonian—as long as I've got you by my side."
Lois smiled and leaned in closer. "And you'll always have me, Smallville."
They shared a long, passionate kiss as the screen continued to glow in the background—Arsenal's voice carrying through the room, but in that moment, for them, the world had faded away.
In a large room inside the X-Mansion, a group of kids and a few adults were gathered, all eyes locked on the television. Like the rest of the world, they were watching the live interview with Arsenal.
"So he's a mutant," Spike said, eyes wide. "And man did he hit the jackpot. Look at how many powers he has! I want that gold one."
"Forget that," Bobby chimed in. "I want to know how strong his ice powers are."
Kurt raised an eyebrow. "What, you think you could beat him?"
Bobby shrugged with a grin. "Without a doubt. Come on, no one beats me when it comes to ice powers."
"Don't get cocky," Professor Xavier said with a gentle but firm tone. "There's always a chance Arsenal's powers are stronger than yours—especially if he's been training them longer."
"You guys are all missing the real mystery," Jubilee said, casually blowing a bubble with her gum.
"Oh yeah?" Jean asked. "What's that?"
"What he looks like under that mask… and how hot he is," Jubilee said with a playful smirk.
"I knew you were gonna say that," Rogue groaned, rolling her eyes.
Everyone burst into laughter.
After a moment, Scott turned to Charles, thoughtful. "Professor… now that we know he's a mutant, how does he have so many powers? I thought mutants usually only had one."
"That is usually the case," Charles replied, folding his hands. "Arsenal appears to be… something of an anomaly to our kind. A rare case."
"I would like to meet him," Piotr said thoughtfully. "He seems like a good man."
"No shit he is—he's a hero," Ellie cut in with a smirk. "But yeah, I wanna meet him too. He seems cool."
"Language, Ellie," Charles said gently but firmly.
"English. A little Russian. Some Japanese," Ellie replied innocently.
Yumiko rolled her eyes and gave Ellie a light slap on the shoulder. "You know that's not what he meant. Be nice, or no more cuddles for a week," she added under her breath as she perched herself on Ellie's lap.
"Okay, okay, sorry!" Ellie quickly said, holding Yumiko tightly like a human body pillow.
"The kid's alright," Logan said with a half-smile, arms crossed. "Still… I'd like to meet him too. Seems like a solid guy—and I kinda wanna fight him. Just to test his strength."
"I'd rather you not," Charles replied dryly. "If we ever do get the chance to meet Arsenal, I'd prefer him to be an ally—or maybe even… a member."
"Oh man, that'd be so cool!" Kitty said, nearly bouncing on the couch. "Arsenal joining the X-Men, even though we're not really public right now…"
"That's for our safety, Kitty," Storm reminded calmly. "One day, we'll reveal ourselves to the world. But until then… you all need to focus on your training."
"Training again?" Ellie groaned, but there was no real protest in her voice—just the usual teen drama.
Ed pov
"Well, Arsenal, I want to thank you for your time," Cat Grant said with a warm smile. "This interview is sadly coming to an end. But before we wrap things up… I have one last question."
I nodded. "Go ahead."
"Why?" she asked. "Why do all of this? Be a hero. Form a team. Put yourself in danger. What put you on this path?"
I leaned back slightly, thoughtful. "Because I've always liked helping people," I said. "And I've been given these amazing abilities… these powers."
"But you could've just lived quietly," Cat said, leaning forward. "With that gold-touch power alone, you'd never have to work a day in your life. You could've ignored the world's problems and been set for life."
I chuckled softly. "Yeah, you're right. I could've. I could've lived comfortably, selfishly, never lifting a finger unless it benefitted me. But how could I, when I see so much pain? So much hatred? Injustice? People suffering—when I know I have the power to make a difference?"
I paused for a moment, letting the words settle.
"I couldn't just turn my back on the world. Not when I have the ability to help. It doesn't matter if someone's a mutant, an alien, a metahuman, or just from a different country. At the end of the day, we all live on the same planet. Earth. And we should be working together, not tearing each other apart."
I glanced into the camera, my voice growing steadier.
"Because there are threats out there—not just on this planet, but beyond it. One day, something might come here with the power to wipe us all out. Sure, maybe Superman and I could fight it off… but we can't do it alone. We shouldn't have to. If we united as one species, imagine what we could accomplish. Advancing technology. Curing diseases. Building a better future. Together."
Cat and everyone in the studio sat in silence, eyes fixed on me—not just listening, but feeling the weight of every word.
"That's why I fight every day—to make that future a reality," I said, my voice steady. "And it's why I'm always searching for others willing to stand beside me in this cause."
I looked directly into the camera again, knowing millions were watching.
"To those out there who have powers—you don't have to become a hero. If your heart isn't in it, you're not obligated. But… for those of you who do have the heart of a hero, who have the power, the technology, the skill, or the will to protect others… I would be honored to have you stand with me."
I paused, letting the weight of my words land.
"But understand—being a hero isn't just about having powers. You need training. Discipline. Control. Because if you don't have those things, you could end up getting yourself—or someone else—killed."
I glanced toward Cat, then back to the viewers.
"We can make this world safer. Better. Together. We can make a difference."
I took a breath, and then I said something that meant more to me than anyone could imagine.
"There's a saying I learned from a friend—it's basically his family motto: With great power comes great responsibility. Whether you were born with your power or it came to you unexpectedly… it chose you. And now you have a choice."
My tone shifted—firmer, more resolute.
"You can use that power for good. Or… you can choose the path of evil. But if you go down that road, don't be surprised when you find me—or another hero—standing in your way."
I nodded slightly as I finished, the room holding its breath.
Third Person POV
In a dim, run-down apartment on the edge of New York, a flickering TV illuminated the cracked walls with the live broadcast of Arsenal's interview. Keemia Alvarado sat on the frayed couch, her eyes locked on the screen, her expression unreadable but heavy. Every word Arsenal spoke echoed in her mind, tugging at something deep inside her.
Behind her, from the half-closed door of a back room, a faint rhythmic beeping sounded. A medical monitor. A small oxygen tank hissed with a low whine. Inside the room, a frail woman lay unconscious on a medical bed—Keemia's mother. Tubes, wires, and machines were keeping her alive.
Keemia clenched her jaw, fighting the lump rising in her throat.
Then it happened again.
Her hand trembled, and the skin shimmered, crumbling into grains. Sand. The fine golden dust of her mutated form began to slip from her fingers, pooling on the floor like a slow hourglass.
She stared at it, angry. Scared. Tired.
But instead of panicking, she took a breath and slowly curled her fingers into a fist. The sand retracted—drawing back, reshaping until her hand returned to normal.
Do I really have a choice? she whispered under her breath.
Because this was Keemia Alvarado—the daughter of Flint Marko, the future Sandman. Years ago, a freak accident tied to her father's shady dealings had altered them both on a cellular level. They weren't just human anymore. They were living sand.
The mutation changed their lives forever.
Now, they lived in hiding. Still learning what their powers could truly do, still pretending to be normal. But life didn't care if you had powers. Rent was due. Groceries were needed. And her mother was dying.
The medicine was expensive. Too expensive.
Her father worked whatever jobs he could find, but with a record like his, opportunities didn't come easy. Most of the time, he took whatever shady under-the-table work he could get—whatever it took to keep their mother alive. But even that wasn't enough anymore.
And now… this hero—Arsenal—was on screen. Offering something. A path. A future. A purpose.
Keemia stared at the TV again, her fist still trembling slightly.
Maybe Arsenal's words were just idealism. Maybe it was a fantasy.
Or maybe… they were her last chance.
In another part of New York, a young Black girl sat cross-legged on the floor of her modest living room, eyes glued to the television. Arsenal's interview was still playing—his words reaching millions across the globe. But for her, they hit a little harder.
This was Mattie Franklin. A teenage girl who just weeks ago had her life flipped upside down.
She didn't know how the spider found her. The same spider Ed had tried to contain, the one that somehow disappeared mysteriously, had bitten her instead. Maybe it was an accident… or maybe it was something else—something bigger. Fate? Destiny? Whatever it was, Mattie wasn't the same anymore.
She turned her head to glance at the corner of her living room. A pile of broken furniture—chairs, a table leg, the remains of a once-decent lamp—all shattered during her private "training sessions."
"Training, huh?" she muttered, arms crossed. "Yeah… I'm gonna need a lot more chairs."
Her gaze flicked back to the screen. Arsenal's speech was wrapping up, but the fire he lit in her chest was only getting started. The way he spoke, the way he believed—it made her wonder if she had a place in this new world of heroes. A spider-bitten girl with power she didn't fully understand… yet.
The corner was going to grow. She was sure of it.
But so was she.
In a modest home in Palmera City, the Reyes family was gathered in the living room, watching the Arsenal interview like most of the world. The screen reflected in their eyes, everyone listening with rapt attention—except for one in particular, whose face said more than words ever could.
"No," Rocio Reyes said sharply, narrowing her eyes at her son.
Jaime Reyes blinked, turning his head in confusion. "What?"
"I know that look, Jaime. And I'm telling you right now—I'm not letting you become a hero."
"But Mom," Jaime groaned, sitting up straighter. "I've got it under control now. The Scarab listens to me. I can actually help people with this thing."
"Oh really?" Rocio's voice rose, incredulous. "You have it completely under control? No more freak-outs? No more nearly blasting holes in the walls—or us?"
"Yes! Completely under control. The Scarab is synced to me now," Jaime insisted.
Rocio didn't reply.
Instead, she calmly took off her flip-flop… and hurled it at him.
THUNK.
In an instant, the Scarab reacted. His body was engulfed in blue armor, shredding his clothes and leaving him standing there as Blue Beetle.
Jaime looked down at himself, deadpan. "Damn it… that was my favorite shirt."
"Oh yeah, you're totally in control," Milagro snorted from the couch, folding her arms.
Rocio sighed in frustration. "Look, I know you're technically an adult now. Legally. But I'd still like to see you go to college first. You just graduated high school, and now you're talking about becoming a full-time superhero with alien tech no one in this house fully understands."
"I do want to go to college, Mamá," Jaime said. "But this… this is bigger than just me. Ruby and I have been training. We've been running tests. I'm telling you, the Scarab is indestructible. He shot me with a shotgun and I didn't even flinch!"
"What?" Rocio snapped her head toward Ruby Reyes, her brother-in-law, glaring daggers.
"Tú le disparaste a tu sobrino con una escopeta?" she demanded.
"Technically, I aimed at his leg," Ruby muttered, putting up his hands. "We tested other things first, but nothing made a dent in him. I mean—nothing. And don't look at me like I'm the only one! Milagro was there, and Jaime wanted to try it!"
"¡Ruby!" both Jaime and Milagro yelled in betrayal.
"What? It's true!" Ruby huffed. "And I'm not taking your Mamá's wrath solo. If I'm going down, I'm dragging you two with me."
"Nadie quiere a los delatores, Ruby," Nana Reyes muttered from her recliner, not looking away from the screen.
"Mamá…" Ruby whined.
"¡Basta!" a firm voice cut through the room.
Everyone froze as Alberto Reyes, the patriarch of the family, stood up.
"I see everyone's point. Jaime… I know you want to help people, and that's admirable. But there's more than one way to change the world. You're smart. You have the heart and the mind. Maybe you can do both—be a hero and live a normal life."
Jaime looked up, hopeful.
Alberto nodded. "Go to college. Get your degrees. Learn everything you can. Maybe one day you can work at Omnitech Nexus. But until then, take your time. Learn the Scarab. Become one with it. Not just someone wearing it."
Jaime took a breath, then slowly nodded. "Yeah… okay. I can do that."
Rocio crossed her arms. "And no more shotgun tests."
"Agreed," Jaime said.
"We are done with that test anyway, we move on to armor piercing rounds," Ruby mumbled.
"¡Ruby!"
In the dimly lit living room of the Wayne Manor, the flicker of the screen was the only source of motion. Bruce Wayne sat in his usual armchair, eyes narrowed as he watched Arsenal's interview unfold. Across from him, his newly adopted son Dick Grayson leaned forward on the couch, fascinated. Alfred Pennyworth stood beside them, holding a tea tray, his expression neutral but thoughtful.
"I'm guessing you still don't like him," Dick said, glancing over at Bruce. "I don't know why. He seems like a really good guy."
Bruce didn't take his eyes off the screen. "It's not that I hate him. I just don't trust him. He dodged a lot of questions in that interview. Like what happened to the people who were holding those mutants. He never mentioned what he did with them."
"Maybe he caught them and locked them up on his secret base?" Dick suggested, eyebrows raised.
"Or maybe he eliminated them," Bruce said flatly.
Dick looked at him, surprised. "You really think he'd do that? He doesn't seem like the type to just... take lives."
Alfred interjected calmly, "Looks can be deceiving, Master Dick. Consider your guardian, for example. To the world, Bruce Wayne is a billionaire playboy—some even compare him to Tony Stark. But in truth, he's the Batman. Now, be honest—would you have ever guessed Bruce Wayne was Batman just by looking at him?"
Dick didn't hesitate. "Not at all. Not with all the brooding Batman does."
"Exactly," Alfred said with a smirk. "Bruce Wayne is an act. Arsenal's hero persona might be as well. But actions matter—and so far, he's done a lot of good."
Bruce leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I'm not wrong to be cautious, Alfred."
"Perhaps not," Alfred said, setting the tray down gently. "But you are wrong to assume he has no right to privacy. Or that he's playing a role just to deceive. You're judging him as a threat without trying to understand who he truly is, how would you like it when someone tries to find out your identity and treat you as a threat without even knowing you?"
"I am different," Bruce replied. "I'm just a peak human. He's a mutant with over a hundred powers, and he's getting stronger by the day. Someone like that needs to be watched. He needs contingency plans ."
Alfred sighed, patient but firm. "Yes… a peak human who can punch through concrete, move through shadows like a ghost, and whose gadgets would make the military green with envy. You don't need to trust him, Master Bruce. But don't mistake caution for condemnation. Maybe try getting to know the man before deciding he's a threat."
Bruce said nothing, eyes returning to the screen. Dick just sat back, arms crossed, a small smile on his face.
"Admit it," Dick said under his breath. "You kind of admire him."
Bruce didn't answer. But he didn't deny it either.
In an old, dusty warehouse they had made their home, the six Runaways sat huddled in what they called the "living room," watching Arsenal's interview play on an old box TV. It flickered slightly, but the image was clear—thanks to Alex somehow rigging power into the building.
"Do you guys think... we could be heroes too?" Molly asked, eyes wide with wonder. She was the youngest of the group, and the most hopeful. "I mean, some of us do have powers."
"That's not a good idea, Molly," Chase said, arms crossed. "Running around playing hero is the fastest way to get noticed. And if we get noticed, our parents might find us."
"And if they find us, we'd have to run again," Nico added. "We might even drag Escanor into danger."
"And none of us want to leave Escanor," Gert said firmly.
"No, we don't," everyone echoed in agreement.
"But still... just imagine what we could do. Even if it's just for this neighborhood," Molly said, her voice soft but full of passion.
Alex sighed, looking at her. "Molly... remember the last time we tried to fight? When Nico's mom had the Staff of One? She wiped the floor with us. You got seriously hurt. You were down for a month."
"But she doesn't have the staff anymore. Nico does!" Molly insisted.
"Yeah, and that's just one person. Out there, there are a lot more people—stronger than you, stronger than all of us. If we start playing hero now, we risk more than just getting hurt."
Alex's voice softened. "Look… I get it. You want to help people. We all do. But we need to think long-term. Keep working for Escanor, save up money, get new IDs. Once we're safe, once we've taken down our parents."
"...Okay," Molly said quietly, her expression dimming.
The others exchanged a look, then Gert smiled and reached over to pat Molly's shoulder.
"But when all that's done," Gert said gently, "if you still want to be a hero... then yeah. We're with you."
"Really?" Molly's eyes lit up.
"Yeah," Alex said, nodding. "After we handle what we have to—after we're finally free—we can make our own choices. And if being a hero is yours, then we'll back you up."
"Awesome!" Molly beamed. "I'm already thinking of superhero names for all of us."
The group laughed, the tension lifting just a little as hope filled the room.
For now, they were still fugitives. But someday soon... they'd be something more.
Inside a cozy room decorated with posters, books, and fairy lights, a girl sat cross-legged on her bed, eyes glued to the screen as Arsenal's interview played out. Beside her, an owl sat perched calmly on the windowsill.
Beth leaned forward, wide-eyed."Chuck, did you hear what Arsenal just said?"
The owl blinked, tilting its head like it was trying to understand.
"He said, 'With great power comes great responsibility.'" Beth stood up abruptly, pacing. "That's Peter's motto. That's totally Peter's motto!"
She stopped in her tracks. Her mind raced as the pieces clicked into place.
"Wait. Wait—how would Arsenal even know that unless... unless Peter knows him. Or—hold on—unless Peter is..."
Her eyes went wide."Oh. My. God." She spun toward the owl, pointing. "Peter Parker is Spider-Man."
Chuck blinked again, completely unbothered.
"It makes so much sense now! All the disappearing, the lame excuses, the bruises! And Cindy—Cindy's always with him. She has to be Silk!"
Beth started pacing again, her voice speeding up with excitement."They've both been acting weird lately. Always dipping out. Always whispering about 'projects' or 'study sessions.' Come on! Who do they think they're fooling?"
Chuck let out a soft hoot.
"Yes, I know it sounds crazy. There's barely any proof. But I feel it. And I'm going to prove it—to you and to myself. I just need to follow them. Carefully. Discreetly. Like a ninja. Or Nancy Drew with better hair."
She spun to face the owl again."But don't worry—I'm not going to expose their secret to the world or anything. Just... confirm it. And once I do, I won't tell a soul. Except you, obviously."
"Who?" Chuck hooted.
"Exactly! You're the only one I trust, feathery sidekick." She plopped back down on the bed with a grin.
"And who knows, maybe I can help them out. Every Spider needs a guy in the chair, right? Sure, I'm no Ned with computers yet, but I'm smart. Like, gifted program smart. I could totally figure it out."
"Who?" Chuck asked again, tilting his head even more.
"That's not arrogance, Chuck. That's confidence. Learn the difference." Beth smirked, then fist-bumped the owl's wing.
Inside a quiet lab, three people occupied the room—though only two were currently awake. Barry Allen lay unconscious on a medical bed, his vitals steady but unchanged for months. Cisco Ramon and Caitlin Snow were nearby, as always, monitoring his condition. A large screen played Arsenal's interview in the background, filling the room with light and sound.
"Man, I want Arsenal merch so bad," Cisco said, eyes glued to the screen. "He's freaking cool. And over a hundred powers? I can't even imagine what half of them do."
Caitlin chuckled, crossing her arms. "I'm more curious about his doctors, honestly. I mean, if they're working alongside a hero like that, they've got to be at the top of their game. I'd love to see what kind of advanced tech they're using."
Cisco turned to her with mock disbelief. "Seriously? He's got more powers than Pokémon have evolutions, and that's what caught your attention?"
"Hey," she said, smirking, "you're geeking out about his powers, I'm geeking out about his medical team. Same energy."
Before Cisco could respond, a groggy voice interrupted them.
"Who's... Arsenal? And where... where am I?"
Both of them froze, eyes going wide. Slowly, they turned to look at the bed—where Barry Allen was now awake, blinking in confusion.
"Holy crap—you're finally awake!" Cisco exclaimed.
Caitlin's eyes lit up with relief. "Cisco, go get Dr. Wells! I'll make sure he's okay."
"On it!" Cisco said, already sprinting down the hallway.
Caitlin moved quickly to Barry's side, gently adjusting the sensors and grabbing a tablet. "Barry, just relax. You've been in a coma for a while—but you're safe. You're at S.T.A.R. Labs."
Barry tried to sit up but winced at the effort. "How long?"
"Almost a year," Caitlin said softly. "But we'll explain everything. Right now, I just need to run some tests."
Barry blinked slowly, trying to process what he'd just heard. He had no idea the world had changed while he slept—or that his body had changed even more. Because buried deep in his cells, lightning still lingered, waiting to be unleashed.
And soon, Barry Allen would discover he wasn't just faster—he was something entirely new.
Somewhere in a secret underground base...
Rows of people lay restrained, most unconscious, being subjected to experiments. The flickering of an old, dusty box TV echoed softly in the lab, displaying the Arsenal interview. One particular figure was very much awake, strapped to a metal table—eyes alert and far too chatty for the comfort of the man watching him.
This was no ordinary prisoner.
This is the future—
"No, no, no! Let me handle this one, author! Took you long enough to get to me," the man snapped, grinning under the scars. "By the way, hi, readers. It's me. The future Deadpool—Wade freaking Wilson! About time I got some screen time. I mean, come on, I'm only the most badass mercenary-slash-fourth-wall-demolishing-icon in fiction."
A bald man in a lab coat scowled from across the room. "What the hell are you ranting about now, lunatic?"
"Not you, Francis," Wade said with a dismissive wave. "I'm talking to the author. You know, the guy writing all this? Who completely forgot to include yours truly until now? No biggie. I mean, the dude had to set up the X-Men, Batman and Robin, the Reyes family, Beth Chapel finding out Peter Parker's Secret, the whole Runaways subplot, and Spider-Puberty going on in New York. But finally, finally, we get to the Merc with the Mouth."
Francis sighed and rubbed his temple. "If you don't shut up, I'm bringing the taser again."
"Oh nooo, not the taser," Wade said with exaggerated fear. "Anyway, moving on. Readers, what do you think of the story so far? We've got teen angst, hero speeches, family drama, mutant theories, government conspiracies—it's like the MCU and DC had a beautiful, chaotic baby!"
Francis walked out of the lab in silence. Wade grinned wider.
"Perfect. Now that Buzzcut's gone, let's get real. So, you're probably wondering how the MC's gonna rescue me—"
AN: (No spoilers, Deadpool. Don't make me regret adding you to this story.)
"Okay, okay! But what about the invasion that's coming? The thing with the—"
AN: (Still no.)
"Winter Soldier's twist? Come on, that one's barely a spoiler—"
AN: (Nope.)
"Ugh, fine. What about the MC's love interest then? People are dying to know how he ends up juggling Supergirl and Lena Luthor—"
AN: (Absolutely not.)
"...Can I talk about Peter Parker's harem?"
AN: (Sure. That doesn't affect the plot too much. Plus, it's a slow burn.)
"Boom! There it is. See, folks? Peter Parker, awkward genius turned Web Casanova. It's happening. MJ? Check. Cindy Moon? Probably. anya corazon and Julia Cornwall? Let's gooo! Maybe even a couple of multiversal surprises. And hey, who knows—maybe one of them falls for a handsome, scarred antihero with a big sword and a bigger personality. I'm just saying, Peter can share."
AN: (You do realize all of them are underage in this story, right?)
"...Wait, what? You serious?! Oh god, is Chris Hansen already behind me?! I swear, I didn't know! Even my fourth-wall powers have limits! Don't put me on any lists, I have a wife!"
The lab door opened. Francis returned—with a long, buzzing black taser in hand.
"...Welp, readers, this is my cue to wrap up. If you want more Deadpool, tell the author to stop stalling and write my rescue arc already. Maybe have the MC bring—"
ZZZZZZZAAAAPP!
Deadpool's body spasmed on the table as Francis tased him mercilessly.
"Finally," Francis muttered. "Silence."
_____________________________________________________________
AN: Sorry for the late chapter. I hope this really long chapter makes up for it, and if you're wondering what Deadpool was about to say, he was about to say bring Captain America.