After sending Gwen off, Lorien checked the time—it was almost the end of his workday.
When the clock hit five, he locked the office door and headed out.
"Check-in," he thought to himself.
[Check-in successful!]
[Obtained: Vision Ward x3]
"Vision Ward?"
[Vision Ward: When activated, it nullifies all forms of sight, detection, perception, and mental probing within a certain range—including electronic surveillance—unless the source enters the ward's area.]
Reading the description, Lorien immediately understood what it was.
"A Vision Ward from Runeterra."
Not bad. Definitely useful.
He nodded in satisfaction. There were three in total—one for the office, one for home, and one spare. That way, he wouldn't have to worry about outside surveillance.
Otherwise, with things like cameras, entities such as Jarvis, Ultron, or Vision could easily tap into feeds all over the world.
Would having cameras at home really make you feel safe?
That'd be like live-streaming your own life.
...
That evening, at the Avengers Compound, Wanda sat staring at the business card Tony had given her, lost in thought.
She pulled out her phone and searched the address—turns out it was in Manhattan, one of the busiest and most prosperous areas of New York.
To be honest, that was the last place she wanted to go right now.
Online, there were plenty of harsh voices directed at her.
After her mistake while trying to save Captain America—an error that indirectly caused more deaths than the mission was meant to prevent—the internet had erupted in outrage.
They called her an evil witch.
They hurled all sorts of insults at her.
It left her with two main thoughts:
One—never use her powers again.
Two—stay away from crowded places.
All she wanted was to find somewhere quiet and live alone. That would be enough.
But... deep down, she still wanted a normal life.
To go out like anyone else.
To enjoy herself like anyone else.
To feel happiness like anyone else.
For that, maybe... she needed to try.
And the first step toward trying was—
Wanda lowered her head, picked up the wooden business card, and slipped it into her pocket. Then she stood and laid out the clothes she would wear tomorrow:
A pair of plain blue jeans.
A loose, gray hoodie with a hood.
Dressed like that, she wouldn't be immediately recognized as the Scarlet Witch when walking down the street. It would spare her a lot of trouble.
...
Meanwhile, in the brand-new Stark Tower, Tony Stark sat in his chair, rubbing his forehead as he looked over the public opinion data Friday had gathered.
First, Jarvis was gone—now existing as Vision.
Second, Friday's analysis and projections painted a worrying picture.
At present, nearly half of all online discussions about superheroes were negative.
And among those who still supported them, most were only fans of specific heroes—like Iron Man or Captain America—rather than believing in the idea of superheroes as a whole.
As for the negative voices?
They were nothing but insults and opposition.
"Hoo…"
Tony let out a long sigh. One arm was crossed over his chest, the other hand pressed against his forehead.
"Sir, based on calculations, there are two most effective ways to quell public opposition," Friday reported.
Tony didn't move his hand. "Let's hear them."
"First, the Avengers resolve a world-ending crisis, making society understand that only superheroes are the final safeguard.
Second, the Avengers go into hiding. Given the current rate of information turnover online, public discussion would decrease by roughly 70% in one year, and in three years, it would approach the optimal low.
Alternatively, a full disclosure of the Avengers' internal operations could completely put the public at ease."
Tony shook his head helplessly.
"Might as well have said nothing."
Friday's analysis was correct—those were indeed the answers. But they were also unrealistic, at least in the short term.
The Avengers had only just managed to come together, and they'd barely prevented a major disaster. Sure, Tony himself bore much of the responsibility for that disaster, but that's how reality worked: succeed, and you're celebrated; fail, and you're disgraced.
Without a turning point, any further effort seemed likely to backfire.
Tony's eyes shifted to a device on the table—a neural network and intelligent control panel he had built with Banner. But Banner was gone now.
Originally, Tony's plan had been to create a network of Iron Legion units and an intelligent command hub to safeguard Earth. But now… he felt disheartened.
He no longer thought it was worth it. The moment had likely passed, and he knew his chances were gone.
He sat there, fist pressed lightly against his mouth, thinking for the rest of the night.
"Friday."
"Sir?"
"Maybe your second option is the right one."
"Sir, that choice would place the Avengers under United Nations oversight. Captain America will never agree to that."
"That's his problem. If he has an issue, he can deal with it. I'll focus on my part."
"Sir…"
"Enough. Pull up the armor interface—let's start working on a new suit."
"Yes, sir."