The sun was rising over New York, its golden rays brushing the skyscrapers, but for Ethan, the light brought no warmth. The night had been long, filled not with sleep, but with meticulous planning for his revenge. After the visit from the Ancient One and the anchoring of his power in this reality, he felt more attuned to the world—but that had done nothing to dampen his resolve.
He stood in the living room of the secluded residence, facing the glass walls, watching the break of dawn. His parents were still asleep, resting peacefully—a gift he had given them. Their presence was the only light in his existence, the only thread tying him to the humanity he once possessed. But even that love couldn't extinguish the cold flame of justice burning within him.
"Marcus. Jessica," he murmured, the names sounding like curses on his lips. "You thought you got rid of me. You thought you could live in wealth without consequences. You were wrong."
He closed his eyes, and his mind expanded. He wasn't looking to manipulate time or space visibly. He was searching for the invisible threads that connected events, opportunities, weaknesses. He projected his consciousness into computer networks, financial databases, private conversations. He didn't need a computer—information bent to his will, revealing itself like pages of an open book.
He saw Marcus Vance, now an arrogant businessman running the Vance Corporation with an iron grip, but also with a recklessness and greed bordering on illegality. He had shady investments, unscrupulous partners, and a reputation built on fragile foundations.
He saw Jessica Vance, a graceful yet ruthless socialite, whose influence reached into the most exclusive circles. She was the brain behind many schemes, manipulating people for her own gain, her cruelty hidden behind a charming smile.
"You built your empire on lies," Ethan thought. "I'll tear it down brick by brick."
His plan was simple in concept, but complex in execution. He would strike where it hurt the most: their fortune, their reputation, their power. He would isolate them, ruin them, and break them psychologically.
---
A few days later, at Stark Tower, life had returned to something resembling normal, at least as normal as it could be after an alien invasion. The Avengers trained, held briefings, and tried to understand their new teammate. Ethan was present but always distant. He attended meetings, observed training, but never truly joined in.
One afternoon, Tony Stark found him in the gym, watching Captain America train with impressive intensity. Ethan sat on a bench, unmoving, his deep blue eyes fixed on Steve.
"So, mystery man," Tony said, approaching with an energy drink in hand. "Not the sweating type, huh? I mean, infinite energy, endless vitality—that must come in handy for skipping gym class."
Ethan slowly turned his head toward him. "I don't need physical training."
"I know, I know," Tony sighed. "It's just… we're trying to understand. You're here, you saved the world, you're the most powerful one among us, and yet, you're like… a statue."
Steve Rogers, breathless, paused for a moment. "Tony's right, Ethan. We're a team. We share our burdens. If something's bothering you…"
"My concerns are personal," Ethan cut in. "And they don't involve external threats."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? Sounds like you've got a secret mission. Something more important than saving the universe?"
Ethan stared at him. "To me, yes."
"Alright, I won't push," Tony said, raising his hands in surrender. "But if you ever need help, y'know… moving a mountain, or making a bank disappear, you know where to find us." He attempted a joke, but Ethan's face remained impassive.
"I don't need your help with that," Ethan replied. "I can handle my affairs alone."
Natasha Romanoff entered the room, her sharp gaze sweeping over the scene. She had noticed Ethan's coldness, his detachment. She had seen men like him—men broken by their past, seeking vengeance.
"Something's not right," Natasha said in a low voice. "I can feel it. There's a storm brewing in him."
"He brought his parents back to life, Nat," Tony replied. "That's enough to make anyone a little… off."
"This isn't just being off," Natasha countered. "It's focus. Cold focus. I've seen it in assassins."
Ethan stood up, his movements fluid and silent. "I'm not an assassin."
"No," Natasha said, locking eyes with him. "But you're dangerous. To the ones who hurt you."
Ethan didn't reply. He left the gym, the Avengers exchanging uneasy glances behind him. He knew they were watching him. But they couldn't comprehend the depth of his pain, or the extent of his thirst for vengeance.
---
Back at the secluded residence, Ethan found his parents. Richard and Eleanor were beginning to readjust, but the shock of their resurrection and the revelations about Marcus and Jessica still weighed heavily on them.
Eleanor sat by the fireplace, her gaze lost in the flames. Richard held a newspaper but didn't read the words.
"Mom. Dad," Ethan said as he entered.
Eleanor looked up, worry etched in her features. "Ethan, sweetheart. Are you alright? You're so… quiet."
"I'm fine, Mom," he answered. "I came to talk to you about what I'm going to do."
Richard set his newspaper down. "You've made progress with your plans?"
"Yes," Ethan said. "I'm starting." He sat across from them, his icy blue eyes unwavering. "I won't kill them. I won't even touch them. That would be too easy. They need to live with the consequences of what they did."
"Then what will you do?" Eleanor asked, her voice trembling.
"I'll isolate them. Ruin them. Strip them of everything they cherish," Ethan explained, his voice flat. "Marcus built his empire on a shaky foundation—shady investments, corrupt partners, illegal deals. I'll expose it all."
"But… the Vance Corporation… that's our legacy," Richard stammered. "Your legacy too."
"It's a legacy tainted by greed and cruelty," Ethan shot back. "I don't want it. I'll make sure it collapses."
"And Jessica?" Eleanor asked tearfully. "She's so… influential."
"Her influence is built on lies and manipulation," Ethan said. "I'll reveal her true face. Her secrets, her schemes. She'll be ostracized. Cast out from the very circles she worships."
Eleanor stood and approached Ethan, placing a hand on his cheek. "My darling, I understand your pain. I understand your anger. But revenge… it won't bring you peace."
"It will bring me justice, Mom," Ethan replied, his gaze steely. "Peace will come when they've paid."
Richard, always the pragmatist, intervened. "How will you do this, Ethan? Without getting caught? They're powerful."
"Their power is an illusion, Dad," Ethan said. "Mine is real. I can manipulate systems, information, minds—without leaving a trace. I can create accidents, betrayals, coincidences."
He stood, his aura of cold resolve filling the room. "The first domino falls tomorrow."
---
The next day, Marcus Vance's world began to crumble.
Marcus sat in his luxurious office atop Vance Tower, cigar in hand, savoring his dominance. He was on the phone, closing a lucrative deal.
"Yes, yes, Mr. Dubois, the deal is solid. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Trust me—we're about to make a fortune," he said with a smug smile.
Suddenly, his computer shut down. Then rebooted, displaying a series of error messages.
"What the…?" Marcus scowled. "Marvin! What's going on?"
His assistant, a stressed young man, rushed in. "Mr. Vance, there seems to be a problem with the network. Our servers are…" He checked his tablet, eyes widening. "They're being hacked! Data is… being transferred!"
"What?!" Marcus roared. "Who dares do this?! Lock everything down! Cut access!"
But it was already too late. Within minutes, confidential information about his shady investments, tax evasion, and corrupt dealings was anonymously sent to media outlets, financial authorities, and regulatory agencies.
His phone lit up with frantic calls—his lawyer, the board, business partners… all in panic.
"Marcus! It's a disaster!" his lawyer yelled over the phone. "Internal documents are everywhere! The stock is crashing!"
"Calm down!" Marcus bellowed. "This is an attack! We'll find the culprit!"
But deep inside, a cold fear took root. It was too precise. Too well-planned.
---
Meanwhile, Jessica Vance was having lunch at a high-end restaurant with an influential friend—Madame Dubois, wife of the very man Marcus was trying to swindle.
"So darling," Jessica said with a charming smile, "this charity gala will be the event of the year. I've already convinced the Duchess of Windsor to make a sizable donation."
Her phone buzzed. Then again. Her face froze.
"What is it, Jessica?" Madame Dubois asked.
Jessica tapped through the messages, her face turning pale. News articles, screenshots of private conversations, revelations about her manipulation, lies, betrayals—even toward her own friends. Scandals now exposed to the world.
"This… this is impossible," Jessica whispered. "It's all lies!"
"Oh, look at this," Madame Dubois said, checking her own phone. Her eyes widened. "Jessica Vance, queen of the social elite, accused of defrauding her friends to fund her lavish lifestyle…" She looked up, her expression turning hard. "Is it true?"
Jessica tried to defend herself, but the evidence was overwhelming. Screenshots of her messages. Audio recordings. Everything laid bare.
"I… I need to go," Jessica said, standing hastily, her face drained of color.
Madame Dubois looked at her with disgust. "I think our friendship just ended, Jessica. And rest assured—you'll never be welcomed in our circles again."
Jessica fled the restaurant, her world collapsing around her. Her friends, her influence, her reputation… all burning down.
---
At the secluded residence, Ethan watched the news on a floating holographic screen he had conjured. Headlines, news flashes, social media—everything was about the Vance downfall.
Richard and Eleanor sat beside him, expressions torn between horror, sorrow, and justice.
"This is… terrible," Eleanor murmured. "Their lives are destroyed."
"They destroyed mine, Mom," Ethan replied, voice emotionless. "This is the price."
"But the Vance Corporation…" Richard began.
"It's collapsing," Ethan said. "Investors are pulling out. Lawsuits are incoming. Marcus will be ruined."
"And Jessica?" Eleanor asked.
"She's ostracized," Ethan said. "Her friends abandoned her. Her reputation is in tatters. She'll never be the queen of the elite again."
"Are you… satisfied, sweetheart?" Eleanor asked softly.
Ethan closed his eyes. There was no joy, no triumph. Just a cold sense of completion. The scar remained—but it hurt a little less.
"This is only the beginning, Mom," he said, opening his eyes again. "I want them to understand what it's like to lose everything. To be powerless."
"But will you reveal yourself to them?" Richard asked. "Tell them it was you?"
Ethan gave a cold smile. "Not yet. I want them to wonder who's behind this. To live in fear and confusion. When they're at rock bottom—then I'll show myself."
He turned to his parents, and for the first time, a flicker of warmth appeared in his gaze. "But for you—I'm here. And I'll never leave you again."
Eleanor hugged him, tears streaming down her face. Richard placed a hand on his son's shoulder. They knew their boy had changed—had become something formidable. But they still saw the child they once loved, seeking justice in his own way.
Ethan Vance's vengeance was well underway. The threads he had woven in the shadows had begun to strangle his abusers—slowly, methodically. And the world, blind to the true force behind it all, would see only a series of unfortunate coincidences.