Joren pulled down the brim of his hat.
A heavy weariness settled into his bones—not just from the physical toll of overusing Ripple energy, but from the weight pressing against his mind.
Star Platinum World.
No wonder he'd always felt Star Platinum's speed "shouldn't be like that."
It wasn't about velocity alone. It was about transcending time itself—bending it, interfering with its flow.
And only now, today, had that door truly swung open for him.
The annihilation of the beasts had siphoned Madam Gao's life force until it faded to nothing. Kingpin lay broken, his empire in ashes.
Exhausted but resolute, Joren turned to leave—just as he stepped out of the theater—
Squeal—!
Tires screeched through the night, a harsh, ear-splitting wail.
From every direction, unmarked black SUVs roared onto the street, boxing him in with mechanical precision. Their formation was flawless: a steel trap snapping shut.
Doors opened in perfect unison.
Dozens of agents poured out—black tactical vests, custom assault rifles, movements so synchronized they made no sound beyond the click of boots on asphalt. Not a word was spoken. Only the cold, dark muzzles of their rifles spoke for them, all aimed at the lone figure in the center.
Then a tall figure emerged from the lead vehicle.
Maria Hill.
Her sharp black uniform matched the chill in her eyes—colder even than the tablet clutched in her hand.
"Joren Joestar."
Her voice cut through the silence like a blade.
"By order of the World Security Council and Article 17 of the Strategic Defense, Attack, and Logistics Bureau Internal Regulations, you are hereby designated an unregistered high-capability individual and directly implicated in a Class A terrorist incident. Lay down all resistance and come with us—now."
Joren's gaze swept across the ring of agents before settling on Hill's face.
We just took down one madman… and now a whole pack of lackeys shows up.
"I refuse."
He didn't waste another breath. Instead, he stepped forward—toward the narrow gap in their encirclement.
"This isn't a request," Hill said flatly, raising her hand to signal the takedown order.
"Don't be so tense, Hill."
A gravelly voice cut through the tension from behind her.
Nick Fury materialized like a phantom, draped in a long black trench coat, his single eye locked unwaveringly on Joren.
"You really think a few backscratchers can itch a Godzilla?" he said, stepping forward until he stood five paces from Joren. "Nice fireworks show, kid."
He glanced at the half-collapsed theater behind them, smoke still curling into the night sky.
"You just solved one of our biggest headaches. But you also lit a damn sun over this city. And now? Every creature that thrives in the dark—moths, vultures, sharks—they're all gonna come flying straight here."
Joren didn't move. "That's not my problem."
"Flip the table," Fury said softly, "and you can't pretend the mess on the floor has nothing to do with you."
He leaned in slightly.
"Now every shark in the pond smells blood. That makes it my problem. And kid—unfortunately for you—it makes it yours, too."
---
Inside the theater…
Peter's Spider-Sense flared like an alarm bell.
"We have to go. Now."
He grabbed Daredevil's arm without hesitation.
Daredevil had already heard it—the silent, lethal rhythm of synchronized heartbeats, the hushed tension hanging in the air outside.
"The FBI?" Peter whispered.
Daredevil shook his head.
"No," he murmured. "Worse. Much worse."
Using the ruins as cover, they slipped out through a hole in the theater's back wall—smashed open by Kingpin—and vanished silently into the night.
...
"I've finished speaking."
Joren's patience was wearing thin. "Get out of the way."
He took another step, ready to stride past Fury without breaking stride.
"I'm afraid that won't work." Fury's voice dropped low. "Before you cause any more trouble, I need to know who you really are—and which side you're on."
Dozens of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents tensed instantly, fingers tightening on their triggers.
The air, already thick with gunpowder and dust, grew heavier with unspoken threat.
Joren's gaze didn't waver.
It settled calmly—almost dismissively—on Nick Fury's single eye.
That look said it all: Go ahead. Try me.
Fury understood.
"I'll say it again," Joren said. "Move aside."
He took another half-step forward.
Maria Hill's hand hovered mid-gesture, already raised to give the order—but she hesitated.
Every instinct in her screamed that pulling the trigger would be an irreversible mistake.
Fury narrowed his eye. He knew conventional deterrence had failed.
"Alright, kid."
He slowly raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.
"Let's compromise. If you don't want to come with us, fine. But you can't just walk away like this. Not until the expert I've hired runs a harmless assessment."
The words had barely left his mouth when—
Buzz—
A whoosh ripped through the New York night sky. A red streak, trailing fire like a comet, pierced the clouds.
Every S.H.I.E.L.D. agent instinctively looked up.
Relief flickered across Hill's face.
Fury didn't. His eye stayed locked on Joren, searching for the faintest shift in expression.
He found none.
The boy merely tilted his head up slightly, his face unreadable—save for the familiar impatience.
The red streak hovered for a moment, elegant and lethal.
Hot jetwash from its thrusters kicked dust and gravel into the air.
Then it dropped—
Thump!
A figure clad in red-and-gold armor landed in a classic superhero kneel, planted firmly between Joren and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s encirclement.
Machinery whirred as he rose to his full height.
The arc reactor on his chest pulsed with soft blue light.
"Wow."
A flippant voice echoed from beneath the helmet.
"Looks like I missed the best part of the party. Fury, you always do this—only calling me when you need someone to clean up your mess."
The suit's white-lit eyes swept over the ruined battlefield… then locked onto the lone figure still standing: a boy in a high school uniform, a hat stitched firmly to his head, looking utterly out of place—and utterly unimpressed.
"So… this stylish kid is the 'big trouble' you were panicking about?"
Click.
The faceplate retracted with a hiss, revealing Tony Stark's famously smug grin.
"Jarvis, scan and analyze."
[Scanning, sir.]
[Vital signs… unreadable.]
[Energy signature… unreadable.]
[Unknown interference detected in biofield. In-depth analysis blocked.]
[Recommendation: Maintain safe distance.]
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