The Quinjet hummed steadily on autopilot, cutting through the Sokovian sky, leaving the smoking ruins of the HYDRA base behind.
Inside, the atmosphere was a mix of relief and tension. Hawkeye, Clint Barton, grunted in pain, clutching his torso where a piece of shrapnel had caught him.
Bruce Banner was checking the wound, his touch surprisingly gentle. Thor sat with Mjolnir resting by his feet, and Captain America looked out the window, his expression thoughtful.
Tony, having shed most of his armor, plopped down into a seat, the recovered Scepter secured nearby. He surveyed the ice capsule now strapped down in the cargo bay. The white-haired young man inside was still, perfectly preserved.
"Alright team, pop quiz," Tony began, breaking the silence. "Any theories on why HYDRA decided to put Jack Frost here on timeout? More importantly, what's our plan? Do we get him a stick and a cloak, or...?"
Thor looked over, his brow furrowed as if the answer was incredibly simple. "What is the confusion, Stark? It is quite clear. We simply awaken the young man and ask him."
Tony raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You serious, Point Break? Just... 'Hey, kid, rise and shine, mind telling us why evil science Nazis flash-froze you?' Oh, you are serious."
Natasha Romanoff, ever practical, spoke up. "He's likely an experiment. HYDRA could have kidnapped him, held him in stasis for future use, or perhaps he was part of whatever they were doing with the Scepter. Thor's right, though. Waking him is the most direct way to get answers. Though its too risky… they could have modified his mind or something else… so I think for now him being in there is best."
Captain America nodded in agreement. "We can't just leave him like this. He deserves a chance, and we need to understand what HYDRA was doing."
Clint, wincing as Banner applied a fresh bandage, chimed in, his voice strained. "So, am I the only one thinking maybe they froze him because something's wrong with the kid? Like, super-powered, not-playing-nice-with-others wrong? Remember those two we just tangled with? The fast one and the witchy one? He could be another one of their enhanced projects."
What none of them realized was that their debate was rapidly becoming irrelevant. The intricate machinery that had kept the ice capsule stable in the HYDRA lab had been disconnected during the transfer.
The short time it took to move the capsule from the fortress to the Quinjet, unplugged from its power source, was all that was needed. Deep within the icy prison, a consciousness was stirring.
The first sign was subtle. A tiny, almost invisible crack appeared on the surface of the ice-like capsule. Then another.
"Uh, guys?" Bruce said, his voice suddenly tight as he noticed.
It was already too late.
With a sound like a gunshot mixed with shattering crystal, the ice capsule exploded outwards. Shards of frozen material flew across the Quinjet.
In the same instant, a section of the Quinjet's ceiling burst open with a deafening roar as the figure inside launched himself upwards and out.
One second, the white-haired young man was encased in ice. The next, he was gone, a blur against the sky, leaving a gaping hole in the aircraft.
It happened so incredibly fast that even the Avengers, with their heightened reflexes, were caught completely off guard.
The Quinjet lurched violently, alarms blaring.
"Nat, take the stick!" Tony yelled, already slapping his hands together as his Iron Man armor began to form around him. "I'm going after our popsicle!"
With a final clang, the helmet snapped into place. Iron Man blasted out of the hole in the ceiling, chasing after the mysterious figure who had just made a very dramatic exit.
The white-haired young man hung suspended in the cold, rushing air, high above the clouds. He wasn't falling, nor was he being propelled by any visible means like the armored figure now rocketing towards him.
He was simply… there, levitating with an unnatural stillness. His eyes, the color of a summer sky bleeding into a deep ocean, held a faint, ethereal glow.
He blinked, looking down at his own hands, then around at the vast expanse of blue. He couldn't quite process what was happening or where he was.
The last thing he… remembered? It was fuzzy.
Flashes of opening his eyes, soldiers in dark uniforms with a red, snake-like symbol on their shoulders.
Then a surge of power, a brilliant blue light wrapping around them, and them… ceasing to exist, their forms twisted and crushed. After that, nothing but the cold.
….
(First Person POV - Gojo)
Where exactly am I? To be honest, I don't really like surprises that much. That's why I don't mind spoilers for books or movies.
And now, here I am, flying in the sky. Well, not exactly flying. Levitating, I guess. This is a pretty big surprise.
I tried to move, to get a better sense of things. Just as I did, I heard a sound, like a miniature jet engine mixed with that distinct fwoosh of repulsors, you know, the sfx from movies.
Turning, I saw him. A flying metal man, red and gold, closing in fast. He was shouting something, but the wind snatched his words away.
I didn't even have to look properly to know there was a jet, the one this metal man had come from, still flying below, and now it was angling towards my general direction.
Okay, new person. Maybe they can explain what's going on. I was about to raise a hand, maybe give a little wave, a friendly 'hello,' when it hit me.
My brain exploded.
Not literally, thank goodness, but it felt like a thousand needles were drilling into my skull, shoving memories in where there was only confusion before. So fast. All at once.
The memories weren't mine. Or, well, they were now, I guess. They belonged to this body.
Gojo Satoru.
Six Eyes. Limitless.
The strongest.
And the metal man rapidly approaching? Iron Man.
Tony Stark.
Which meant…
I wasn't in the JJK anime. I was in the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
A wave of other, fainter memories tried to surface my own past life. I think it's called reincarnation? Or transmigration? Something like that. I couldn't recall my old name, or how I ended up here.
I remembered watching movies, these very movies, but the plots were hazy in my memories. My previous life… well, it wasn't exactly as exciting or important as Tony Stark's, or even Gojo Satoru's, to be honest.
Or to be exact… I can't even remember anything about my past life.
….
(Third Person POV)
The sudden, overwhelming influx of a lifetime's worth of memories, abilities, and the dawning realization of his bizarre predicament was too much.
The inherent control Gojo Satoru possessed over his cursed energy flickered. The effortless levitation wavered, and he began to plummet, a streak of white against the blue.
"Whoa there, Sky-kid!" Iron Man shouted, accelerating. He reached out, his armored arms catching the falling young man just before he became a very messy impact on the clouds below.
Tony adjusted his hold, steadying them both in mid-air. "You okay, kid?" he asked, his voice filtered through the suit's speakers.
"And what was that, suddenly breaking the top of our jet and then floating there like you own the sky? And last question, you aren't a threat right now, are you?"
The young man in his arms looked dazed, those unnervingly bright blue eyes still processing. He took a breath, then said, his voice surprisingly calm despite the circumstances, "Don't know the answer to the first two. I just woke up, and then the next second I was… flying. And the answer to the last one is, well… I'm not sure."
Tony Stark was silent for a beat. "Well," he finally said, his tone dry, "that wasn't too reassuring."
….
A/N: Well I'm finished here. Do tell me how was it and if you are kind enough leave a review next chapter will be tomorrow or by Saturday… to be honest it all depends on the comments and the support i will get from this.
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