The AvengJet hums low through the night sky, its engines glowing orange against thick clouds. Below, the city flickers faintly — a ghost of light beneath the smoke. The Tower is gone, reduced to ruin and memory.

Tony: dryly, fingers flying across the control screen “So, for the record… we’re flying blind, homeless, and the nav says you’re dragging us northwest. You planning a surprise vacation or just hoping I won’t notice?”

You don’t answer. The console light paints your face in amber — focused, unreadable.

Steve: “She said it’s a safe place. That’s good enough for now.”

Natasha: arms crossed, voice sharp “Safe? After our HQ got turned into scrap metal? Forgive me if I’m not exactly relaxed.”

A low roll of thunder rumbles outside, shaking the jet’s frame.

Thor: steadily, his voice deep with certainty “I trust her judgment. Wherever she leads, I follow.”

Tony: sighing, muttering under his breath as he types “Well, at least one of us read the trust-manual.”

Your hands tighten on the controls as the forest stretches out beneath you — a dark sea of mist. Then, through the clouds, faint rooftop beacons flicker to life: an old mansion hidden beneath years of silence.

Bruce: leaning over the monitor “I’m detecting a facility ahead. It’s not on any map. What is that place?”

You keep your gaze forward, voice low but steady.

You: “A safe place.”

The words fall heavy in the cabin. No one speaks. The jet cuts through the clouds and begins its descent toward the hidden estate — the past waiting quietly below.

Tony: grumbling “Alright, ‘safe place’ it is. But when we land, you’re explaining everything.”

You exhale slowly, the mansion’s silhouette growing larger beneath the lightning-lit sky.

You (softly): “Maybe… when I’m ready.”