I laid there for what felt like forever but was probably only a minute or two.
My entire body was screaming at me. Not from pain, exactly. The armor had taken care of that. But from exhaustion. Mental exhaustion. Physical exhaustion. The kind that makes your bones feel like jelly.
I forced myself to sit up.
The street looked like a war zone. Which, I guess it was. Destroyed cars. Shattered windows. Chunks of concrete everywhere. Fires still burning. And alien bodies. So many alien bodies.
People were starting to move around now. Helping each other. Checking on the wounded. Some were just sitting there staring at nothing, probably in shock.
I looked down at myself. The armor was damaged. Scratches and dents all over the plating. A few pieces were cracked. One of the holographic shields on my shoulder flickered weakly before stabilizing.
At least the helmet was still intact. My identity was still hidden. Hopefully.
I should get out of here before people started asking questions.
But before I could move, I heard footsteps.
I turned my head.
Spider-Man was limping toward me. His suit was torn in places. He looked as exhausted as I felt.
"Hey," he said, collapsing onto the pavement beside me. "We did it. We actually did it."
"Yeah," I said. My voice came out rough through the helmet filter.
"That was insane. Like, completely insane." Spider-Man laid back, arms spread out. "I fought aliens today. Actual aliens. From space. With a portal and everything."
"Same."
"And we won." Spider-Man let out a breathless laugh. "This is the craziest day of my life."
I couldn't argue with that.
We sat there in silence for a moment. Just two guys who'd somehow survived an alien invasion.
"You should probably go," Spider-Man said quietly. "Before the cleanup crews get here. Before people start asking who you are."
He was right. I needed to leave.
Mom.
Oh god. I needed to find Mom. Make sure she was okay. Let her know I was alive.
I stood up. My legs wobbled but held.
"You gonna be okay?" I asked Spider-Man.
"Yeah. Just need a minute." He gave me a thumbs up without lifting his head. "Go. I'll cover for you if anyone asks."
I nodded. Then I activated the flight system and shot into the air.
The city looked different from up here. Destroyed in places. Burning. But alive. People moving. Sirens wailing. Emergency services already responding.
We'd saved it. Barely. But we'd saved it.
I flew away from Manhattan. Toward Queens. Toward home.
I needed to see Mom. Needed to make sure she was safe. And thnm en I needed to sleep for about a week.
But first, I had to get out of this armor without anyone seeing me.
I found an alley a few blocks from my house. Empty, secluded and perfect.
I landed and dismissed my armor. Within seconds I was just standing there in my regular clothes. Jeans. Hoodie. Looking like any other teenager.
Except I wasn't. Not anymore.
I'd fought aliens today. Alongside Iron Man, Spider-Man, Captain America, and that lightning guy. I'd saved people. Stopped an invasion.
I was a hero.
Holy shit. I was actually a hero.
I looked down at myself. A few bruises were already forming on my arms. Some scratches on my hands. Nothing serious. Nothing that would raise too many questions.
Thank god for the armor. Without it, I'd probably be dead. Or at least in a hospital with way worse injuries than a few bruises.
I dismissed the sword and started walking home. My legs felt like lead. Every step was an effort. But I kept moving.
Mom was probably freaking out. The news had to be covering the invasion. She'd seen it. Knew I was in the city when it happened.
I pulled out my phone. Seventeen missed calls. All from Mom. And a dozen texts.
Mom: Adam where are you
Mom: Please call me
Mom: ADAM
Mom: Please be safe
Mom: I'm coming home
Oh no. She left work early. She was probably home by now. Panicking.
I called her.
She picked up on the first ring.
"ADAM!"
"Mom, I'm okay. I'm fine."
"Where are you? Are you hurt? I saw the news, those things, those aliens—"
"I'm fine, Mom. I promise. I'm walking home right now. I'll be there in five minutes."
"You're sure you're okay?"
"Yes. I'm okay."
I heard her let out a shaky breath. "Okay. Okay. Just... get home. Please."
"I will. I love you."
"I love you too."
I hung up and picked up the pace. Almost home. Almost there.
When I turned onto my street, I saw Mom standing on the front porch. Waiting. The second she spotted me, she ran.
She crashed into me with a hug so tight I could barely breathe.
"You're okay," she whispered. "You're okay."
"I'm okay, Mom."
She pulled back, checking me over. Looking for injuries. Her eyes caught the bruises on my arms. The scratches on my hands.
"You're hurt."
"Just some scratches. Nothing serious. I got caught near some falling debris but I'm fine. Really."
She grabbed my face, checking for more injuries. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. "I thought... when I saw the news, I thought..."
"I'm here. I'm safe."
She hugged me again. Tighter this time. And I hugged her back. Let her hold me. Let myself feel safe for the first time in hours.
We'd won. The city was saved. And I was home.
=====
Three days.
It's been three days since the invasion.
Classes were suspended. School wouldn't resume until next week at the earliest. Not that anyone was complaining. Half the city was still recovering. Cleaning up the damage. Counting the bodies.
I stared at the TV in front of me. The invasion was all the news showed these past few days. Every channel. Every station. Just constant coverage of the aftermath.
The death toll kept climbing. Hundreds confirmed dead. Thousands injured. The number changed every time they gave an update.
Buildings destroyed. Infrastructure damaged. Billions of dollars in property damage. Manhattan looked like a war zone in some areas. Entire blocks reduced to rubble.
It was bad. Really bad.
And I'd been right in the middle of it.
The news kept playing the same footage over and over. Shaky phone videos of the portal opening. Those flying whale things pouring through. Aliens swarming the streets. People running. Screaming.
Then the heroes. Iron Man flying through the air. Captain America throwing his shield. That blonde guy with the hammer summoning lightning. Spider-Man swinging between buildings.
And me.
The dark blue armor flying around, punching aliens, saving people. The news didn't know who I was. They were calling me "The Blue Knight" or "Unknown Armor Hero" or whatever creative name each station came up with.
I'd watched myself on TV yesterday. Some kid had recorded me throwing an alien through a storefront window. The video had gone viral. Millions of views already.
It was surreal. Watching myself fight. Seeing what I looked like from the outside. The armor looked good on camera. Powerful. Heroic.
I didn't feel heroic though. I felt tired.
Mom was barely home. The hospital was swamped. Every bed filled. Every doctor and nurse working overtime. The injured from the invasion kept coming. Some with minor wounds. Others critical. She'd been pulling double shifts since it happened.
I barely saw her. She'd come home late. Exhausted. Sleep for a few hours. Then head back to work before I even woke up.
She left me notes though. On the kitchen counter. Reminding me to eat. To rest. To stay safe. Little reminders that she was thinking about me even when she wasn't here.
The TV showed another clip. Iron Man carrying that nuke through the portal. The footage was grainy. Shot from some rooftop camera. But you could see him. Flying straight into that swirling blue void with a missile on his back.
He'd almost died up there. That's what the news said. Almost didn't make it back before the portal closed.
But he did. Fell out of the sky at the last second. Someone caught him. I couldn't remember who. Everything after that was a blur.
I grabbed the remote and changed the channel.
Same thing. More invasion coverage.
I changed it again.
Still more.
Every channel was covering it. There was no escape. No distraction. Just constant reminders of what had happened.
I turned off the TV and sat in silence.
My phone buzzed. I picked it up.
Text from Peter.
Peter: Hey man, you doing okay?
I stared at the message for a moment before typing back.
Me: Yeah. Just bored. You?
Peter: Same. Been helping Aunt May with stuff around the house. Trying to stay busy.
Me: How's Gwen?
There was a long pause before he replied.
Peter: Not great. She's not really talking to anyone right now.
Yeah. That made sense. Her dad died just over a week ago. And now this. An alien invasion on top of everything else.
I couldn't imagine what she was going through.
Me: Let me know if there's anything I can do.
Peter: Will do. Thanks.
I set my phone down and leaned back on the couch.
Three days since the invasion. And somehow, life was supposed to just... continue. Go back to normal. Like nothing happened.
But how was I supposed to do that? How was anyone supposed to do that after seeing aliens pour through a portal in the sky?
I didn't have an answer.
All I knew was that I was tired. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally.
And I had no idea what came next.
The washing machine beeped from downstairs. The load must've finished.
Right. Mom had asked me to throw the laundry in the dryer before she left this morning. I'd completely forgotten.
I dragged myself off the couch and headed down to the basement.
I walked over to the washing machine and popped it open.
"You're a hard man to find, Mr. Maxwell."
I froze.
I spun around.
A man stood near the stairs. Tall. Black. Wearing a long coat. And most notably, an eyepatch covering his left eye.
How the hell did he get in here?
"Who are you?" I asked, my heart hammering. My mind was already reaching for Grand Chariot. Ready to summon it if this went south.
The man took a step forward. His one good eye studied me carefully.
"My name is Nick Fury," he said. "Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. And we need to talk."