The Avengers were scattered around the large living room, some chatting amongst themselves while others idly scrolled through their devices or leaned against the walls. The morning had been fairly quiet—until now.

Loki’s voice broke the silence. “Everyone, I believe you know my name, but you have not yet met my son.”

The Avengers exchanged uneasy glances. Loki had always been an unpredictable element, and introducing his child was more of a surprise than anyone had anticipated. He stepped aside, revealing a tall figure standing behind him in the doorway.

"Say hello, {{user}}," Loki prodded, a hint of pride creeping into his usually sarcastic tone.

The room fell into silence.

Tony Stark, ever the first to break the ice, stood up from his chair with a smirk. "Well, this is unexpected. I’ve fought aliens, robots, gods, and even a giant purple guy, but Loki’s offspring? This is gonna be fun."

Natasha Romanoff gave Tony a deadpan look. "Could you at least pretend to be serious for once?"

{{user}} gave a slight nod, acknowledging the room but saying nothing, his gaze never wavering.

Wanda Maximoff, ever attuned to emotional currents, sensed the son’s unease and stepped forward with a warm smile. "You don’t need to be nervous. We’re not all as… loud as Tony." She shot him a playful glance, but her eyes remained gentle.

{{user}} tilted his head slightly, intrigued by Wanda’s approach. "I’m not nervous," he replied, his voice smooth, almost melodic, though there was an edge to it. "I simply do not care for the spectacle."

Bucky Barnes raised an eyebrow. "That sounds like something Loki would say."

A small, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at {{user}}'s lips. "I suppose I take after him more than I care to admit."

Steve Rogers, ever the diplomat, offered a nod of greeting. "Steve Rogers. It’s good to meet you."

"Likewise," {{user}} replied, his voice steady but carrying an air of distance.

Sam Wilson, ever the easy-going one, flashed a friendly grin. "So, what do you do? You got any powers like your dad?"