"As a colleague, of course I know who you are," Liam said with an easy smile.
With that, he rose from his seat and took Natasha Romanoff's hand himself. His expression turned playful as he met her eyes. "So, beautiful lady, would you honor me with a dance?"
"Of course," Natasha replied, her lips curving with amusement. Then her gaze flicked toward Clarice, and the teasing in her voice deepened. "But won't your little girlfriend get jealous?"
Liam glanced back at Clarice and shrugged without the slightest sign of discomfort. "It's fine. I'll dance with you for a bit first."
Clarice wasn't jealous at all. Quite the opposite—her heart lifted the moment she heard Natasha call her Liam's girlfriend and noticed that he didn't deny it. That tiny detail mattered far more to her than the dance itself, and the quiet happiness it brought showed clearly in her eyes.
"Weiss, go ahead and enjoy yourself," Clarice said softly, smiling at him. "I'll wait for you here."
"Alright," Liam replied with a nod. His tone softened a little when he looked at her. "If anything happens, call me."
Then he led Natasha toward the dance floor.
Although Liam had never really danced before, his enhanced mind absorbed the required steps almost instantly. For someone with his mental processing ability, rhythm, posture, and timing were all things he could grasp in seconds. By the time they stepped into position, he was already moving with the confidence of someone who had practiced for years.
His hand settled naturally at Natasha's waist as the two of them began to move with the music. Their steps were smooth, elegant, and perfectly matched, drawing more than a few glances from the people around them.
Natasha looked at him with quiet curiosity. "You hide it well. You move like someone who's done this a lot."
"I learn fast," Liam replied with a faint smile.
That answer earned a small laugh from her. She didn't press, but her interest in him only grew. From the way Fury had spoken of him, she already knew Liam Hayes wasn't a normal mutant. Still, seeing him in person made that impression even stronger. He was relaxed in a room full of influential people, unbothered by attention, and somehow gave off the sense that almost nothing here could actually surprise him.
Liam, for his part, had no trouble appreciating who he was dancing with. Natasha Romanoff was someone he had always liked as a character—sharp, dangerous, capable, and far more layered than most people realized. That didn't mean he was foolish enough to romanticize everything about her, but friendship? That was another matter entirely.
"By the way," Liam said as they turned with the music, "can I just call you Natasha?"
"Of course," she replied. Her tone was calm, but there was something assessing in her gaze. "Then I suppose I should ask you something too. Why do you think I'm here tonight? And don't worry—your clearance is high enough for the answer."
Liam's eyes narrowed slightly with interest. "So this is official business after all."
Natasha gave the slightest nod. "Tony Stark's behavior has been getting worse lately. He's been reckless, emotionally unstable, and making strange decisions, including handing out money with almost no restraint. According to what I've gathered, he appears to be poisoned."
Liam's expression shifted.
The moment he heard that, everything clicked into place. So this was that party. Even though he had already healed Tony's chest wound, the deeper problem hadn't actually been solved. Palladium poisoning was still there, just not as advanced as it had been in the original timeline. Without depending on the arc reactor every second of every day, Tony's condition had slowed, but it hadn't disappeared.
And the truth was simple—Tony would never give up the armor.
Not for comfort, not for safety, not even for his own life.
"I haven't identified the exact toxin yet," Natasha continued as they moved across the floor. "But if his condition keeps deteriorating, we'll know soon enough."
"I see," Liam said, nodding once.
Natasha studied him a moment longer before speaking again. "The director said you're extraordinary. So tell me—what do you think?"
Liam smiled faintly. "If we're talking about the cause, I do have a guess."
"Oh?" Her eyes sharpened at once. "What do you know?"
"It probably started after the kidnapping," Liam said, leaving the rest deliberately vague.
That was all Natasha needed.
As one of the best agents in the world, she caught the meaning immediately. Her gaze shifted, and understanding flashed across her face. "You mean the armor."
"More specifically," Liam replied, "the arc reactor."
Natasha's expression relaxed into a knowing smile. "Then Fury was right about you."
"Wouldn't be the first time," Liam said dryly.
The music ended not long after that. Natasha stepped back with a quiet chuckle, the dance coming to a graceful close. "You should probably go check on your girlfriend. If you don't, things might get annoying."
Liam turned and looked toward Clarice. Sure enough, several men had gathered around her table, each one clearly more persistent than the last.
He sighed softly. "See you next time, Natasha."
Before walking away, Liam completed something else first.
[Ding! Has the host signed in with Natasha Romanoff?]
"Yes."
[Ding! Sign-in successful. Congratulations to the host for obtaining the super ability: Psychic Cannonball. Reward: 100 experience points.]
Liam's eyes flickered with genuine surprise.
Psychic Cannonball?
That wasn't what he had expected at all.
It wasn't just telekinesis, and it definitely wasn't a simple physical enhancement. The ability was far more abstract than that—closer to a manifestation of absolute will. In practical terms, it could be understood as a power that converted belief and intent into force. If the user believed he could defend against something, his body could endure it. If he believed he could recover, his injuries could be restored. If he believed he could strike through something, the resulting blow could become monstrously destructive.
And that was only the surface of it.
In raw performance, it granted outrageous defense, shocking recovery, and a body powerful enough to move at supersonic speed, leap through the air by kicking against it, and unleash punches whose shockwaves could devastate whatever stood ahead. The so-called "cannonball" wasn't a projectile at all—it was the embodiment of overwhelming impact, a super punch backed by force of will.
The more Liam thought about it, the broader the implications became. This wasn't just a combat skill. It was a concept-level ability, one that blurred the line between conviction and reality.
A smile spread across his face.
Natasha really was his lucky star.
At the same time, Natasha watched him walk away and found herself even more intrigued. Liam Hayes didn't fit neatly into any box. He wasn't slick like a politician or visibly calculating like a trained operative, yet there was a sharpness beneath his relaxed attitude that was impossible to miss. And though he looked perfectly composed, she could also tell something else—this kind of glittering social event was still relatively new to him.
That contradiction made him all the more interesting.
By the time Liam reached Clarice, two middle-aged men were leaning in far too comfortably, their faces carrying the self-satisfied confidence of people used to getting what they wanted.
He stopped behind them, his tone calm but edged with warning. "What exactly do you two think you're doing to my dance partner?"
"Weiss, you're back." The faint frustration on Clarice's face vanished immediately, replaced by a bright smile the second she saw him.
That smile only made the two men even more eager, and it was painfully obvious they still hadn't realized what Liam's words meant.
Liam let out a quiet breath. There were always people like this—men who mistook persistence for charm and entitlement for confidence.
"I think," he said evenly, "you two should go dance with each other instead."
The words fell lightly, but the effect was immediate.
Without a single protest, the two men turned and walked away. A second later, in full view of the entire banquet, they grabbed each other and began dancing together on the spot.
For a moment, the surrounding guests could only stare.
Then the scene somehow became even stranger, because the two men's movements grew increasingly dramatic and exaggerated, as if they had completely forgotten where they were.
"Get them out of here," one of the security staff ordered at once, realizing the situation had gone far beyond ordinary embarrassment.
The guards rushed over and dragged the pair away while the rest of the room buzzed with confusion.
Clarice leaned closer to Liam, lowering her voice so only he could hear. "You did that, didn't you?"
Liam smiled without even trying to deny it. "Anyone trying to steal my dance partner deserves a little punishment."
The words made Clarice's face warm, and the happiness in her expression became impossible to hide. Even so, a trace of worry remained in her eyes.
Then Liam looked at her and held out his hand. "So, beautiful girl, may I have this dance?"
Clarice hesitated, her happiness mixing with nervousness. "But… I don't know how to dance."
"It's alright," Liam said gently. "I'll teach you."
Clarice looked at him for one more second, then slowly placed her hand in his.
Liam gave a soft pull, and she fell naturally into his arms.
Then the two of them walked onto the dance floor and began to dance gracefully.
....
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