[The Quantum Realm. Between Seconds.]
The gray skyline of 2012 dissolved into streaks of impossible light. Gravity twisted. Up became down.
Tony held onto Sebastian's arm; Steve held onto Tony's. They were a human chain tumbling backward through history. The years peeled away like layers of paint—2000, 1991, 1980...
[Camp Lehigh, New Jersey. April 7, 1970.]
THUD.
They hit the ground. It wasn't the concrete of New York. It was gravel.
Sebastian stumbled, his dress shoes sliding in the dirt. He straightened up immediately, brushing dust from his coat. The air smelled of pine needles, rain, and leaded gasoline.
"We made it," Steve breathed, looking around. "Camp Lehigh."
It was a military base. Jeeps drove by. Soldiers in green fatigues marched in formation.
"Okay," Steve checked the perimeter. "I'm going to the bunker for the particles. Tony, Seb, you go for the Tesseract. Meet back here in ten."
"Ten minutes," Tony nodded, looking at the old buildings. "Right. Easy."
Steve ran off.
Tony looked at Sebastian. "Okay, we need to blend in. Act... groovy."
"I shall attempt to be... 'hip', Sir," Sebastian replied deadpan.
[The Underground Bunker.]
They infiltrated the elevator. Tony swiped a lab coat from a rack. He put on a pair of aviator glasses.
"Dr. Potts," Tony read the nametag. "Perfect."
They reached the sub-level. The Tesseract was there, sitting inside a secure vault, glowing softly. Tony grabbed the briefcase, swapping the glowing cube into it with practiced ease.
"Got it," Tony whispered. "Let's go."
DING.
The elevator doors opened.
A man walked out. He wore a grey suit and a mustache that Tony had seen in a thousand photographs.
Howard Stark.
Tony froze. He stopped breathing.
Sebastian, standing behind Tony, stiffened. He recognized the man instantly. The Young Master's father. The man who had signed Sebastian's paychecks for decades before Tony took over.
"Can I help you?" Howard asked, looking at the two strangers.
"No," Tony squeaked. He cleared his throat. "No, just... visitors. From MIT."
"MIT," Howard nodded, distracted. He looked at Sebastian. "I know you?"
Sebastian bowed his head slightly, keeping his face in the shadow. "I believe I have... a familiar face, Sir."
Howard squinted. "You look like a guy I knew back in the day. Always wore black. Creepy guy. Good coffee, though."
Tony looked panicked. "We should go."
Howard held up a finger. "Hold on. The elevator is stuck anyway. Walk with me? I could use the company."
Tony looked at Sebastian. What do I do?
Sebastian stepped back. He realized this was not his moment. This was a ghost story that only Tony could finish.
"I believe I left the... briefcase in the car, Doctor," Sebastian lied smoothly. "You proceed. I shall wait for you outside."
Tony gave him a grateful look. "Right. Thanks."
Sebastian slipped away down the corridor, leaving the father and son to talk.
[The Parking Lot. Outside.]
Sebastian walked out into the overcast daylight. He took a deep breath of the 1970 air. It tasted cleaner than 2023, but heavy with the smoke of industry.
A black Lincoln Continental pulled up to the curb. The driver's door opened.
A man stepped out. He was dressed in a sensible suit, holding an umbrella. He looked tired but dignified.
Edwin Jarvis.
The real Jarvis. The human butler who had raised Tony when Howard was too busy saving the world. The man whose voice Tony had immortalized in code.
Sebastian stopped.
Jarvis noticed him. He saw the tailcoat. The white gloves. The posture.
Game recognizes game.
"Good afternoon," Jarvis said, his British accent clipped and polite. "Are you with the delegation?"
Sebastian walked over. "Something like that."
"I'm waiting for Mr. Stark," Jarvis sighed, checking his watch. "He is running late. As usual."
"Genius rarely adheres to a schedule," Sebastian noted.
Jarvis chuckled. "You sound like you've had experience with the type."
"I serve his son," Sebastian admitted. "He is... very much like his father."
"Is he?" Jarvis smiled fondly. "That is good to hear. Mr. Stark worries, you know. He wonders if he's doing right by the boy. The future weighs on him."
"The future is a heavy burden," Sebastian agreed.
Jarvis opened the rear door of the Lincoln, preparing it for Howard. He saw a bouquet of flowers on the passenger seat.
"For the wife," Jarvis explained, seeing Sebastian looking. "He forgets the anniversary, but he remembers the flowers. Eventually."
"Alstroemeria," Sebastian identified the flower. "Devotion. A suitable choice."
Jarvis looked at Sebastian closely.
"You have a strange air about you, sir," Jarvis said quietly. "You stand like a man who has been standing for a very long time."
"Eternity feels long when you are waiting for dinner," Sebastian smiled—a genuine, small smile.
"Well," Jarvis tipped his hat. "I hope your employer appreciates you. It is a thankless job, keeping the world from falling apart while they tinker with their toys."
"He does," Sebastian said softly. "In his own way."
Just then, the bunker door opened. Howard and Tony walked out. They shook hands.
Tony looked shaken. Like he had been crying.
Howard walked to the car. "Jarvis! Let's go. I got a date with a fondue set."
"Very good, Sir," Jarvis opened the door.
Howard looked back at Tony. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," Tony waved. "Everything's great."
Howard got in. Jarvis went to the driver's side. Before he got in, he looked at Sebastian one last time.
"Good luck to you, sir," Jarvis nodded.
"And to you, Mr. Jarvis," Sebastian bowed low. "You have set a high standard."
The Lincoln drove away.
[The Departure.]
Tony walked over to Sebastian. He was clutching the briefcase tight.
"You okay, Sir?" Sebastian asked.
"I talked to him," Tony whispered. "I actually talked to him. He... he asked about me. About his kid."
"And?"
"He said he thought the kid was the greatest creation he ever made."
Tony looked at the sky, tears welling up.
"I needed that, Seb. I really needed that."
"I know," Sebastian said. "And Mr. Jarvis sends his regards."
Tony laughed, a wet, choked sound. "You met Jarvis?"
"A charming gentleman," Sebastian said. "Though his tie was crooked."
Steve Rogers ran up to them, clutching four vials of red liquid.
"Got 'em!" Steve panted. "And I might have accidentally started a rumor about Hank Pym. We gotta go."
Tony adjusted his 1970s glasses.
"Let's go home."
They activated their wristbands.
[Avengers Compound. 2023.]
The machine roared.
ZAP.
They materialized on the platform.
All of them.
Tony, Steve, Sebastian, Scott, Bruce. Clint... fell to his knees. Nebula. Rocket. Thor.
The machine wound down.
Tony looked around. "Did we get them all?"
"We got them," Scott held up the scepter.
But the silence from the other side of the platform was deafening.
Clint Barton was on the ground, weeping.
"Clint?" Steve stepped forward. "Where's Nat?"
Clint looked up. His eyes were haunted.
"She didn't make it."
Sebastian froze. He looked at the Soul Stone in Clint's hand. He felt the specific, heavy energy of it.
A sacrifice, Sebastian realized. A soul for a soul.
He looked at Tony. Tony's victory dissolved into horror.
"No," Tony whispered. "No."
Sebastian stepped back into the shadows of the hangar. He had served death for eons. He had eaten thousands of souls. But this one... the absence of the Black Widow... it felt like the house was suddenly much colder.
[End of Chapter 47]
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