The days following the encounter with Evan passed in a blur of reflection and planning. The protagonist found himself wandering the city, learning the layout of New York and getting used to the idea that this world was very different from the one he'd left behind. The weight of the looming events—the Chitauri invasion, the arrival of Thanos, and countless other threats—hung over him like a storm cloud, but for now, things were quiet.
New York in 2011 was a city on the brink of change, though most of its citizens didn't realize it. The Avengers didn't yet exist, but the players were already in place. Tony Stark was out there, patrolling the skies, unaware of the responsibility that would soon be thrust upon him. Thor and Loki hadn't made their dramatic entrance to Earth yet, and the world had no idea what lay just beyond the stars.
But the protagonist knew. And with that knowledge came a growing sense of urgency.
Every morning, he opened the system, reviewing his options and reminding himself of the task ahead. The Sub-Quest to empower Evan to Level 5 was his first real objective, but the bigger picture—surviving in the MCU—was always in the back of his mind. He needed to gather more subordinates, grow stronger, and be prepared for whatever this world threw at him.
He spent some of his time watching Evan from a distance. The young artist had thrown himself into his work, inspired by their conversation. He was sketching constantly, uploading his pieces online, and already starting to get some attention from smaller art communities. The system reflected his progress, too. Every time Evan took a step forward, the protagonist felt a small surge of energy, a subtle reminder that the system was working.
Evan Matthews — Creativity: Rank E (Progress: 20%)
Evan was growing. Slowly but surely, his talent was developing, and the system rewarded both of them for it. The protagonist could feel it—a slight increase in his own strength, agility, and intelligence, though nothing drastic yet. He was still at the beginning of this journey.
But as much as he enjoyed watching Evan's progress, he knew that time was running out. The Chitauri invasion was only months away, and if he didn't prepare, he wouldn't stand a chance when the battle for New York began.
That was why, on a particularly brisk morning, he found himself standing in front of a familiar skyscraper: Stark Tower. It was still under construction, but the iconic logo was already visible, gleaming in the sunlight.
"Tony Stark," the protagonist muttered to himself. The man who would become Iron Man had already donned the suit, but at this point in the timeline, he was still focused on his own business ventures. The Iron Man persona was more of a hobby for him—something he did to clean up the messes left behind by his own technology.
The protagonist needed to decide how to approach Stark. If he played his cards right, he could possibly ally himself with one of the most brilliant minds in the world. But Tony Stark wasn't exactly the easiest person to approach. He was arrogant, guarded, and skeptical of strangers—especially those who had ulterior motives.
The system chimed softly in his mind, as if reading his thoughts:
New Objective: Investigate Stark Tower.
He smiled. It seemed the system was pushing him toward the same conclusion. If he wanted to grow stronger, Tony Stark was a critical piece of the puzzle.
He walked around the perimeter of the tower, observing the construction workers as they hurried to complete the massive structure. The building itself was a symbol of Stark's ego—a towering monument to his own brilliance. But it would soon become something much more.
The protagonist considered his options. Walking in and demanding to see Tony Stark wasn't going to work. He needed a way to get noticed without raising suspicion. Maybe Evan could help—his sketches of Iron Man were impressive, and Tony was known to appreciate artistic flair. Perhaps he could use that as an excuse to get in the door.
As he walked, lost in thought, something caught his eye—a flash of movement from the alleyway across the street. He turned just in time to see a figure dart behind a dumpster, moving with unnatural speed.
His instincts kicked in, and he followed without hesitation. The figure was fast, but not fast enough to lose him. As he approached the alley, he caught a better glimpse of his target—a man dressed in a tattered jacket, his face pale and drawn, eyes glowing faintly with a sickly green hue.
The man turned to face him, snarling, and in an instant, the protagonist realized what he was dealing with.
A Chitauri infiltrator.
His heart raced. The invasion hadn't started yet, but it seemed the Chitauri were already here, scouting the area, preparing for the attack that would soon shake the entire planet.
The alien hybrid lunged at him, its claws extended, but the protagonist was faster. His newfound agility, boosted by the system, allowed him to sidestep the attack with ease. The Chitauri hissed in frustration, slashing wildly, but the protagonist ducked and weaved, staying just out of reach.
He needed a weapon. Something to defend himself. His eyes darted around the alley, spotting a metal pipe discarded near a stack of crates. He dove for it, rolling to the side as the Chitauri swiped again, and came up swinging.
The pipe connected with the alien's head, sending it staggering back. But it wasn't enough. The Chitauri recovered quickly, snarling with rage, and charged again. This time, the protagonist was ready. He swung the pipe with all his strength, aiming for the creature's legs. The impact knocked it off balance, and before it could recover, he brought the pipe down again, smashing its head into the concrete.
The Chitauri let out a final, gurgling hiss before collapsing, its body twitching once before going still.
Panting, the protagonist stepped back, staring at the body in disbelief. He had just fought and killed a Chitauri hybrid. The reality of his situation was sinking in fast. The invasion was closer than he thought, and the stakes were higher than ever.
As he stood there, catching his breath, the system chimed again:
Combat Encounter Complete.
Strength +2. Agility +1. Endurance +1.
The rush of energy that followed was exhilarating. He felt stronger, faster, more capable. The system was rewarding him for taking action, for surviving in this dangerous world. But this was only the beginning.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, he looked down at the Chitauri's body. If there was one of them here, there were likely more. The invasion hadn't begun yet, but the scouts were already in place. He needed to find out how deep this went—and quickly.
But first, he had to get off the streets. The last thing he needed was to draw attention from the authorities or, worse, from Stark's security.
With one last glance at the Stark Tower looming above him, the protagonist turned and disappeared into the shadows, his mind racing with possibilities.
There was no turning back now. He had to get stronger—faster. The invasion was coming, and when it did, he intended to be ready.
But first, he needed allies. Stark was only one piece of the puzzle. There were others out there—people with potential, people who could help him grow.
And if he played his cards right, he would have a network of subordinates strong enough to face whatever the MCU threw his way.