Doors of the theater opened and littered the fresh and cool evening air with people. Among them was Ethan Cross, who emerged with his body huddled into a gray hoodie, hands shoved deep into the raw cotton pocket without care as he brain buzzed from the last scene of Avengers: Endgame replaying in his brain. The image of the Infinity Gauntlet, that one dramatic snap to the fingertips was swirling incessantly.
Man... What if we could do that, in real life.
He started towards the direction of his apartment. The buzz of chatter, sounds of all types, near and far, were just in the air now; the other fans discussing scenes, characters, plot points from the movie. He moved back into autopilot, nervously pulled out his phone, and began scrolling through an online store. Always something that he did after a superhero movie - follow that fan instinct to buy merchandise that he quickly, never blamed or even admitted buying.
And then it surfaced.
A gauntlet. Not the cheap, plastic and hollow variety found in aisles filled with toys, but something else. A solid piece of metal that seemed cold and thick, and it had not six shiny colored shaped gems, but six empty sockets. The level of detail was... unsettlingly lifelike, including slight scratches and marks of wear from fighting and falling.
The price? $29.99.
Ethan narrowed his eyes. "That can't be real."
He tapped the ad anyway, with no reviews, and no other products from the seller, just a name -- Gauntlet Co. -- and a line of text below that read: For true collectors only.
He hovered over the "Buy Now" button. It was ridiculous. But at that price, why the heck not? Even if it ended up being junk, it would make a decent paperweight.
Click. Order placed.
He pocketed his phone and stepped down off the curb. That was when everything exploded.
The screech of tires took over the night. He could see headlights in his peripheral vision, blinding him before he had a chance to look.
Impact.
When Ethan opened his eyes again, the first thing he noticed was the heat.
Sand pressed against his cheek, warm from the sun. The air tasted like salt, and somewhere off in the distance, waves rhythmically crashed to the shore.
He blinked, slightly dazed, then slowly pushed himself up. Endless blue ocean expanded in front of him. Behind him was a line of palm trees swaying in the breeze.
This was not a street. This was not his city.
"What the hell...?"
A flash of color down the beach caught his eye. He stumbled toward it, each step dragging him further into the sand, and finally he stumbled upon the remains of a small boat. The hull was cracked and chipped, damp with the ocean. A piece of rope dangled over the edge, tangled up with wet seaweed.
Ethan frowned. Did I... survive a shipwreck? No. I was in the city. There was a truck. I should be...
His thoughts froze mid-sentence.
There was something wrong with his left arm. Heavy.
He looked down.
The gauntlet.
Not a replica. Not a toy. This was real — a perfect fit around his forearm, each plate of the dark metal locking seamlessly into place. The six empty sockets were vacant but seemed almost to pull at his gaze, like they were waiting for something.
It wasn't just the sight of impossible armor that unsettled him. It was the slight vibration under the metal, almost a heartbeat.
His pulse increased. He snatched the edge of the wrist plate and tried to pull it off. No budge. He twisted, yanked, even braced the gauntlet against his knee. Nothing.
It was a part of him.
Ethan swallowed hard. The sun's glare flickered off the water, making it impossible to tell how long he had been here. He scanned the tree line. No footprints but his own. No smoke, no buildings, no people.
The wrecked boat wasn't much help. An oar without a paddle, a few rusted hooks, a rotted wooden box. No food. No water.
The tide was coming in. The horizon shimmered with heat in the distance, but nothing there; no islands, no ships.
He looked back at the gauntlet. The thing was barely pulsing when he tightened his fist, the hum barely audible beneath the waves. He didn't know why, but deep down, he felt it wasn't just some freakish piece of metal.
It was here for a reason.
And so was he.
With no better option, he turned toward the jungle. The shadows between the trees stretched long in the fading light, and somewhere deep within, a distant call echoed — something not quite bird, not quite human.
Ethan hesitated only a second before stepping off the sand and into the green.
The gauntlet felt heavier with every step.