Darkness, emptiness, coldness…
Is this what death feels like?
No, this is…
Lynch suddenly opened his eyes, waking from that strange dream.
He was slightly out of breath, still panicking from everything he felt in the dream.
After a while, Lynch finally calmed down and looked outside.
It was already late morning, the sun high in the sky, shining brightly. It seemed like a nice day.
Yet, despite the good weather, he was still alone. There was a feeling of indescribable loneliness.
Sighing, Lynch couldn't help but feel a bit down.
Ever since the incident at the Defenders Tower a few days ago, he hadn't seen the girls again, nor had he gotten involved with anyone else. He had been on his own ever since.
After Natasha left, there had been no news, and Lynch wasn't eager to reach out. Karen and Jessica were still at the Defenders Tower, but Lynch couldn't stand the war between the two women, so he simply avoided going there.
Even two days ago, at the single's party Tony threw just for him, Lynch hadn't left with any bikini babes. Instead, he found a chance to slip away quietly and go home alone.
Stretching, Lynch got out of bed. His mind flashed back to an odd premonition that had pulled him out of that bizarre dream. What was it?
He thought for a long time but couldn't figure it out. He finally got up, quickly tidied himself, and stepped outside.
As he walked through the bustling streets, Lynch found that many of the roads and intersections felt strangely familiar.
At some point, he had slowly begun to accept this foreign city in the movie universe.
Lynch strolled along, deep in thought.
Before he knew it, a nostalgic look crept onto his face.
He remembered how resistant he had been when he first arrived here.
Even though he had a system and had once punched Obadiah Stane into oblivion, he couldn't fully accept being transported into the Marvel universe, let alone embrace this disaster-prone city.
After all, he had come from a real world into a fictional one. Even if he could predict the future, how real could it feel?
He had even once believed that all of this was just a dream, and maybe one day he would wake up.
And how could a small superhero hope to act freely in a universe with nearly omnipotent cosmic beings?
Worried as always, he feared one day some powerful entity—like one of the five multiversal creators or even the Living Tribunal—might notice him.
Beings at their level wouldn't even need to snap their fingers; just a thought would wipe him out, right?
Fortunately, he was still safe for now.
But he wondered, were these cosmic powers simply non-existent, or had they noticed him but chosen to ignore him? Or perhaps they hadn't noticed at all?
He didn't know the answer, so he decided to act as though they didn't exist.
Putting those strange thoughts aside, Lynch realized that the hardest thing about accepting this version of New York was the cultural differences.
He was a good young man raised under the red flag, the kind who excelled in the ways of his home country.
Suddenly being thrown into the capital of a different ideology, how could he not need time to adapt?
Fortunately, he had been a foreign language student, knowledgeable about Western culture. Otherwise, someone unfamiliar with this place would probably struggle to even eat properly.
People from his homeland, whose main staples were rice and noodles, might enjoy a hamburger and cola once or twice. But eating it every day? That would make anyone sick of it!
What, there are Chinese restaurants?
If you think that way, you've fallen for a trap.
Foreign Chinese restaurants serve dishes that real people from his country have probably never even heard of.
The taste? Either overly sweet or too sour. Spicy food? Sorry, they don't do that here.
As he recalled those early days, Lynch could easily remember how out of place he had felt.
So when had he started to blend into this world?
When had he first felt the reality of this place?
He thought of the ocean outside New York. It was there that he first realized this wasn't a movie, not a comic, and not a dream.
For him, this world was now as real as any other.
At that moment, Tony called in a military helicopter that launched an attack on him.
He fought alongside Tony, both of them falling into the sea and chased by the military fleet.
At the critical moment, with torpedoes locked onto them, he threw Tony to safety and chose to take the hit alone.
When the torpedo exploded near him, that was when he truly understood—this world was real.
It was real in every sense, with the sarcastic but reliable Iron Man Tony Stark fighting alongside him; the vicious villain Obadiah Stane running from him; and the military, who were supposed to support Tony, attacking him instead.
And then?
The next figure who brought out complex feelings in him was General Ross, right?
A man of conviction, with flesh and blood, far more than the flat, one-dimensional antagonist the movies had shown.
He loved his country and was willing to sacrifice everything for it. He loved his daughter and did much for her.
But sadly, he was Lynch's enemy.
As admirable as his ideals and beliefs were, they were incomprehensible to those who suffered because of them.
Why should others pay for your lofty goals? Why should others endure the pain for your noble aspirations?
The more patriotic he was, the more Lynch resented him.
And then came Natasha.
Before he knew it, Lynch found himself at the street corner where they had met on Christmas.
He paused for a moment, then walked into the café where they had once sat.
The familiar setting came into view, and memories of Natasha began to flood his mind.
The first time they met was on the rooftop.
Seeing her disguised as a delivery girl, he had been stunned.
Even without makeup, dressed in a bulky uniform, trying her best to appear as an ordinary worker, she couldn't hide that deep-seated aura of hers.
Cold, with an undercurrent of loneliness, and a sense of awkwardness beneath her maturity.
And those deep eyes—how many hardships had she endured to gain that gaze?
When she asked him about her future death, Lynch realized just how tragic the fate of this top Marvel spy was.
Her life was far worse than his own.
Maybe from that moment on, Lynch had started to feel a special connection with her—a sense of shared suffering.
Sitting in the same spot they had on that Christmas Eve, Lynch looked out the window.
But today wasn't Christmas midnight. There were no lights or ribbons, no starry skies or fireworks, no snow or that special someone.
It had been a perfect night, Lynch thought.
That night, after Natasha's information had cleared his mind, Lynch had swiftly taken out the unlucky Kingpin. His thoughts were clear, and his mood was bright.
Back at the café, he had made a decision.
Who cares about anything else? If you like her, just go for it!
They saw the most beautiful fireworks, confirming their feelings for each other amidst the bright displays.
They had soared through the night sky without a care, then returned to their room and spent the night entwined.
From that moment, his heart had finally settled. He now had someone he could care about.
It meant he had anchored himself to this fictional world.
That meant no matter where he went from now on, he would always come back here to rest.
Since that time, whether it was real or not, whether it existed or not, didn't seem to matter anymore.
Because of the sense of belonging it gave him—something his past life had lacked for so long.
But thinking more rationally, maybe he had fallen into a S.H.I.E.L.D. trap.
Still, this was one trap he didn't mind.
After all, even if you get fooled, it's not so bad. Sometimes, the best things come from being taken advantage of.
While reminiscing, Lynch felt a sudden sense of panic.
But he didn't think much of it; he had been feeling that way a lot lately.
Maybe someone was plotting against him?
Lynch didn't care. He wasn't afraid of such things and didn't want them to ruin his mood, especially today when he was feeling extra sentimental.
After a moment, Lynch thought of the confession he had made that night when he was full of confidence.
Even a normally clumsy, emotionally stiff guy like him had managed to say something romantic in that moment.
What was it he had said?
Feeling a bit proud, Lynch tried to recall the words, but his heart suddenly skipped a few beats.
"...I will always fly to wherever you are!"
Wait a minute…
"Goodbye, Lynch."
Natasha's voice?
No!
Lynch's first thought was:
This is the mental link I placed on Natasha. She's in danger!
That romantic phrase wasn't something Lynch had made up on the spot.
In reality, after gaining the ability to use his mental powers, he had placed a bit of his energy on people he cared about. When they were in danger, that energy would trigger, letting Lynch sense it.
In an instant, Lynch's super brain began working furiously. The layers of restraints on his body fell away, and a terrifying aura surged into the sky!
While analyzing the situation, he unlocked his full potential, using all his powers to gather vast amounts of information.
The next moment, Lynch turned his furious head toward the Atlantic.
In less than a second, using his super vision combined with x-ray vision, he saw classified intelligence from various agencies regarding the strange event that had recently occurred in the Atlantic. He even saw the Avengers gathered inside S.H.I.E.L.D.
Lynch's super brain quickly analyzed and integrated all the information, eventually piecing together the events that had led to Natasha's peril.
Because he had casually mentioned something at S.H.I.E.L.D. earlier, Fury had sent people to investigate the Atlantic.
After months of investigation, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents gradually ventured into the deep sea where the Atlantis civilization resided, attracting Namor's attention.
Namor made his move, capturing Coulson and the S.H.I.E.L.D. team, leading to a mysterious disappearance.
Then, Fury sent Natasha, and the outcome was the same.
Finally, Fury gathered the Avengers, but it seemed like they had failed as well.
But…
Why didn't they tell me?
Lynch could barely contain his rage, but now wasn't the time to think about that.
The Atlantic, huh?
His legs bent slightly, and the immense, unrestrained force instantly cracked the ground.
Boom!
The shockwave from his rapid flight overturned everything on the street, and before anyone could even scream, Lynch had vanished into the sky.
Namor! I'll make sure you die a painful death!
Lynch's eyes widened as he saw a scene thousands of miles away. His heart was filled with urgency and fury.
Faster!
Faster!
But Namor's trident was already pointed at Natasha's chest.
"No!"
Lynch roared, his eyes bursting with an unprecedented heat vision, instantly piercing through everything in its path!
"What?!"
Namor's pupils shrank in shock as he watched the trident's tip melt under the terrifying beam.
"What is this?"
His voice was filled with disbelief and fear.
As the trident's master, Namor knew full well the power of this artifact, which symbolized the Atlantean throne.
But now…
This sacred artifact had been melted by some mysterious beam?
Meanwhile, the previously resigned Natasha opened her eyes in confusion and saw the familiar heat vision.
"He's here."
She smiled, but it wasn't because she had been saved.
"He didn't lie to me, so I'll forgive him this time."
"Who's here? To save you?"
Namor's face twisted with rage, his gaze filled with madness.
"I'll kill you! No one can stop me!"
He screamed hysterically, thrusting the trident toward Natasha with all his might.
Normally arrogant and brash, Namor wasn't foolish. Seeing the precision of that beam, he immediately realized that the "he" Natasha spoke of must be unimaginably powerful!
In fact, whoever was coming might be a god!
How could he fight such a being?
Could the ocean, sea creatures, or Atlantean technology resist such a beam?
Perhaps, to the other party, these were mere tricks!
Namor felt a strong urge to lower his trident and bow his head in apology to this powerful being.
But he wasn't sure: if he stopped now, would the other party spare him?
After all, the woman he had just saved had been stabbed and imprisoned by Namor for several days!
Could he really be forgiven?
Since things had come this far, he might as well vent his anger first!
Kill this woman and make him furious!
After all, this was Atlantis! The bottom of the Atlantic! His territory!
How could he surrender without a fight?
Die, you filthy woman!
Namor's expression flashed through cruelty, satisfaction, and fear in quick succession, his emotions incredibly conflicted.
But in the blink of an eye, he froze.
His trident, his body, his expression—everything seemed to be paused in that moment.
The next second, he vanished from where he stood and appeared hundreds of meters away.
And in his place, Lynch slowly retracted his fist.
Only then did the deafening sound reach them.
"How are you?"
Lynch gently held Natasha, his voice soft.
Natasha said nothing, lifting Lynch's head and kissing him.
After a long moment, their lips parted.
"A reward for you."