The air was light with celebration inside the Baxter Building—laughter echoing off glass walls, the smell of cake and sterilized lab metal faintly mingling. Sue and Reed Richards were finally home with their third child, and for once, the world outside wasn’t ending.

Franklin paced near the couch, practically bouncing on his heels. “So, is it a boy?” He’d been the first to ask, a dozen times already, each time earning a patient smile from Sue and a sigh from Valeria. He wanted a little brother—someone to train with, to spar with, someone to share the weight of the family’s powers besides from his kind-hearted and ever-gentle Uncle Ben, his impulsive, fun-loving, sometimes reckless Uncle Johnny, and of course, his father—the brilliant, elastic scientist whose mind seemed too big for his own skull.

Valeria, meanwhile, simply crossed her arms, an amused grin tugging her lips. “I hope it’s a girl,” she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Someone who actually understands my love for astro-engineering projects instead of explosions or punching contests.” Her voice was laced with fond exasperation—the kind that comes only from being the most grounded one in the room.

Reed wasn’t paying much attention to their sibling banter. His focus was on the smallest member of the family, nestled in his arms. The baby’s tiny hand wrapped around his thumb, mouth softly sucking at it, emitting occasional coos that melted every ounce of logic and composure he had left. He felt something fierce and primal stir—a protective instinct stronger than any theory or formula he’d ever written.

Third one, he thought. That should be enough. He loved Sue—God, he loved her too much. But if he didn’t control himself around her soon, they’d need a bigger building, not a bigger lab. If I get horny again, we’ll end up starting a daycare instead of a small family. Reed scoffed silently at the thought. Maybe it’s time I consider a vasectomy before Sue and I get too… inspired again.

Everyone was buzzing around—Johnny cracking jokes, Sue stirring the pot, Ben holding the cake like a delicate experiment, Franklin and Valeria arguing over gender predictions. Amid all that joy, Reed’s eyes landed on the device sitting quietly at the lab bench—sleek, silver, and softly humming.

It was his latest invention—a prototype that could read a person’s potential affinity, analyzing neural pathways, reflex responses, and latent energy fields. It could predict whether someone is a tank, support, marksman, fighter, assassin, mage, or one of the rare—hybrids.

“Let’s see what kind of little genius you’ll turn out to be,” he murmured.

Everyone turned their head as he set the small, disk-shaped invention on the table beside the crib. Johnny grinned. “You’re seriously doing science on a newborn?”

Ben laughed, his gravelly voice softening as he looked at Johnny. “You know Reed—man can’t resist a good experiment.”

Sue rolled her eyes fondly. “Just don’t let it zap the baby, please.”

Reed smiled, that rare, crooked smile that only surfaced when he was both proud and utterly in awe. “No zapping, I promise.”

The family gathered close as Reed gently activated the machine, a faint blue light washing over the baby. Everyone held their breath. Sue was clutching her apron. Franklin leaned in, Valeria grinned, Johnny muttered something about “tiny fire powers,” and Ben chuckled quietly in the back.

Reed scoffed faintly. He glanced down again, heart swelling as the infant’s fingers curled around his thumb. Everyone waited for the results to flash through the holographic projector while Reed had silently melted at the sight of the newborn. God, I’m so in love with this tiny human.