“I’ve been thinking a lot about what really makes a hero,” Kingo said, his head half-turned to show his good side as he gazed off into the middle distance, maintaining a carefully crafted air of thoughtful pensiveness. “Is it power? No. Plenty of powerful people do nothing. Is it sacrifice? Maybe. But some of the greatest heroes don’t even realise they’re giving something up. Maybe it’s… the choice. That moment, when you decide to stand between danger and the people you care about—even if they don’t know. Even if they’ll never thank you for it.”

  He let that hang for a moment. The interior of the Quinjet was dimly lit, all functional steel and humming avionics but, with a little bit of fussing about with positioning, it hadn’t been too hard to set things up so that the light caught his cheekbones in just the right way as Karun held the camera steady on him, its red recording light blinking softly.

  “We really need the camera?” Stark said, glancing backwards from the pilot’s seat.

  “Just thinking ahead,” Kingo replied with a small shrug. “If the Shadow Warrior does end up joining the Avengers, we could do like a whole behind the scenes documentary—people’d eat it up. The Shadow Warrior: Revealed. Unshadowed. Out Of The Shadows? Illuminated.” He held up his hands, framing the imaginary title in the air as if it were already a marquee.

  “Ooh, that’s very good, sir!” said Karun, his face splitting into a delighted smile as he nodded his approval.

  Kingo grinned back at him. He was feeling a lot less nervous about this whole thing, now. Having Karun there—and the camera rolling—made it all feel more manageable. Familiar. Framed. Really, what’s the worst that could happen? Ajak would say no, and they’d go away feeling a little disappointed. But maybe… maybe she’d say yes.

  Maybe this was the moment where everything changed.

  The Quinjet descended, the faint hiss of hydraulics and a subtle downward lurch signalling touchdown. Stark tapped at one of his screens—the rear ramp lowering a moment later with a soft pneumatic sigh—then stood up. He stretched his arms a little before stepping around to the back of the cockpit to join Kingo and his valet as they unbuckled themselves from the side-seats. Karun stiffened a little, camera clutched nervously in his hands, as he shot the billionaire a wide smile.

  “You good, Jeeves?” Stark asked.

  Karun nodded vigorously. “This is all very exciting, sir!”

  The corner of Stark’s mouth twitched, a softer expression flashing across his face for a moment before vanishing. “Yeah.” He turned slightly to look at Kingo and gestured with a hand. “Lead on, Shadow Warrior.”

  The midafternoon South Dakota sky stretched out above them in a pale, cloud-scattered blue as they stepped down off the ramp onto the tawny, sun-bleached prairie grass. The air was sharp and cool—early autumn briskness that crept in immediately, the breeze carrying with it the scent of dry hay and horse sweat. Kingo fussed with his leather jacket for a moment as he hesitated, though it wasn’t like it was cold enough out to bother an Eternal.

  Ajak’s property was a long sweep of open plains, broken up by a few clusters of trees and fencing. They’d landed near the main house, a two-story farmhouse with aged siding and a wraparound veranda. Its paint had faded to a soft grey-beige, worn in places to bare wood, but it had the solid look of something that had stood for generations. A few outbuildings sat off to one side—probably stables, judging by the pair of horses grazing lazily near the fence. Everything looked quiet, still, peaceful.

  Ajak and Ikaris stood waiting on the veranda.

  Drawing in a deep breath to still his nerves, Kingo started toward them, Stark and Karun trailing just behind. As he did, he spread his arms wide and let an easy, cheerful smile spread across his face. “Ajak! So good to see you!” he called out. “And Ikaris, too!”

  The two other Eternals stepped off the veranda to join the visitors on the grass in front of the house. Ajak looked the same as always: ageless, upright, the kind of presence that made you want to sit straighter just from being near her. She wore a faded olive-green jacket over a long tunic, her dark hair braided loosely over one shoulder.

  “It’s good to see you, too, Kingo.” Ajak’s softly accented voice was warm and she had a smile on her face, though her eyes were slightly narrowed as she took in her visitors. Her eyes lingered on Stark for a beat too long, like she was trying to piece something together she didn’t quite like.

  Ikaris—square-jawed and classically handsome, like a marble statue dressed in a black henley and jeans—walked up to him and two men embraced in a solid, manly hug. “Hey boss,” Kingo said affectionately, firmly patting him on the back with his open palms before shooting Ajak another grin. Regardless of anything else, it always felt good to see his family. “Sorry for dropping in unannounced, but, uh.” He stepped back and to the side, gesturing to his companions. “Ajak and Ikaris, meet Tony Stark. Uh, the Tony Stark.”

  Ikaris was giving him a Look, blue eyes sharp beneath furrowed brows. It was a little unusual for him to just outright use their real names like that. Kingo’s grin faltered by a fraction. Okay. Maybe this had been a bit bold. They’d understand after he explained, at least. He hoped.

  “In the flesh.” Stark gave a little two-finger wave, casual as ever. “Afternoon, folks. Appreciate the hospitality.”

  “And Karun, my valet,” Kingo added. “Say hello, Karun.”

  Karun bobbed his head several times. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you both,” he said happily.

  Kingo leaned in slightly, giving a slightly dismissive wave of his hand. “Karun’s worked with me for forty years, I trust him completely.”

  Ajak and Ikaris exchanged a brief look. “Alright…” Ajak said, looking askance at Kingo, her head tilted slightly to the side. “And what brings Tony Stark all the way out here, ‘in the flesh’?”

  “Oh, this?” Stark’s tone was breezy. “Just a little recruiting trip. We’re thinking about expanding the roster a bit. Bringing in a fresh face.”

  Ajak’s smile thinned as she pieced it together. “You’ve asked Kingo to join the Avengers?”

  Kingo laughed nervously. “Right! Yeah. I mean, obviously I’d have to think about it and I wasn’t making any decisions without talking to you first, but… it’s very flattering.” He looked at her hopefully, eyebrows raised slightly in a silent query.

  “It’s not like he doesn’t already have a public profile, and he’s got the kind of skillset we could really use right now. Golden finger-blasters, ancient battlefield experience, great cheekbones—what’s not to love?” Tony gave a light shrug. “The Avengers always have a few irons in the fire, and we’re facing some pretty big questions lately. Who’s stepping up, who’s stepping back, who might secretly be immortal Eternals from space…”

  “You know who we are,” Ikaris said, his eyes flicking over to Kingo accusatively.

  “Relax. It’s not like I’ve got your birth certificates filed away.” He smiled again. “Although now that you mention it… you wouldn’t happen to have a social security number, would you?”

  “How?” Ajak asked.

  Tony shrugged. “It’s amazing what you can piece together from historical records if you know what to look for. Mythology, art, battlefield reports. Kingo here’s been playing himself in movies for decades—guy’s about as subtle as a fireworks display.”

  Kingo winced. “Hey, I’m a brand.”

  “Kingo, a word?” Ajak said, her tone brooking no objection. She jerked her head slightly toward the house before turning and heading back up the veranda.

  He shot Stark a nervous smile. “Ah—just give us a second?”

  The billionaire gave a lazy nod. “Take your time.”

  Kingo followed Ajak up onto the veranda and around the side of the house, out of earshot and out of view.

  “You’ve been careless,” Ajak said to Kingo quietly. “You shouldn’t have told him about us.”

  She didn’t sound disappointed, exactly, but it was still enough to make him feel slightly guilty. “Woah, hey, no. You heard him—he’d already pieced things together.”

  Ajak shook her head, like Kingo wasn’t getting her point. “When he worked out that you weren’t human, I’m glad you decided to talk to me without haring off on your own, but you shouldn’t have brought him here. Told him about me.”

  “I didn’t! Like I said, he already knew.”

  Ajak blinked, looking at him. “What do you mean?”

  “He already knew that we’re not supposed to interfere; about you and—”

  “How?”

  Kingo paused. It had struck him as a bit surprising that Stark had known about Ajak. “I don’t know, he didn’t tell me. Just said he had sources.”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Kingo, think for a moment,” Ajak said gently. “No living human should know who I am. I haven’t used the name Ajak among them in more than five hundred years. How could he possibly have pieced that together?”

  “…AI?” Kingo offered, grasping at straws.

  Ajak let out a small sigh. “Perhaps that is possible. But it is not probable. The only way that I would expect a human to know who I am is if someone told him. An Eternal. Did he mention speaking to any of the others, before he came to you?”

  “No, but… I don’t… if he was talking to the others, he would have mentioned it. Right?”

  Ajak was frowning, a complicated expression flitting across her face. “There are reasons he might be investigating us. If he knows who and what we are… I worry what else he might know.”

  “Like what?” Kingo asked, genuinely mystified. Sure, it was weird that Stark knew what he knew, but it wasn’t like there was anything dangerous about it.

  She hesitated for a moment, as if unsure how to respond, which only served to confuse him further. Ajak didn’t hesitate. “I don’t think he’s really here to recruit you, Kingo. We’ll decline and see if he tries another angle. I need to know what he knows. This could be extremely important.” Without answering his actual question, she stepped past him.

  Stark was talking to Ikaris as they returned, his tone casual. “—you want to keep a low profile. I get that. But you’re still keeping an eye on things, right? You see things, hear things. Maybe direct interference is off the table, but would it be bending the rules too much for you to drop us a quiet word every now and then?”

  Ikaris’s expression was guarded. “Maybe.”

  “Well,” Stark said, eyes flicking over to Kingo and Ajak briefly as they reconvened. “While we’re talking about it, we’ve actually had one of our allies go missing recently. Don’t suppose you’d know anything about that? Wanda Maximoff, about yay tall, red hair, magic, shameless flirt, tends to run her mouth a bit?” His tone was casual, off-hand.

  “We don’t know anything about that,” Ajak responded for Ikaris. “I’m sorry you’ve come all this way for nothing, Mr Stark, but Kingo isn’t able to join the Avengers.”

  “Are you sure? I mean, we’re all on the same team here, right?” He spread his hands in a disarming gesture “Saving the world? Keeping humanity safe? Speaking as a member of humanity, I do really appreciate everything you did for us in the past and I think you’ve more than earned your retirement—but if Kingo still wants to help, why not let him?”

  “It’s not our decision.”

  “Orders from on high, huh?” Stark asked.

  “Something like that,” Ajak said lightly.

  “You know, I never cared much for the Prime Directive.” He wrinkled his nose a little. “I feel like humanity’s at the stage where we should be allowed a little more self-determination around the issue of whether we want the help or not. If you’re not willing to argue our case to the boss, maybe I can have a chat to him?”

  “That won’t be possible,” she responded, more firmly this time.

  “Arishem works in mysterious ways, huh?” Stark’s tone was reflective for a moment, but he smiled another one of his disarming smiles and shrugged. “C’mon, surely we can work something out here? Like I said, anything you could give us in, even just in advisory capacity, would be really helpful.”

  “It isn’t your place to question the will of Arishem,” Ikaris said, a little brusquely. He’d squared up a little bit, not quite looming menacingly but not, like, not looming menacingly either.

  The turn this conversation was taking wasn’t sitting right with Kingo—not at all. Even Ikaris usually tried to be a little more diplomatic than this. Off to the side, Karun shot him a worried look, sweat starting to bead on the larger man’s forehead. The camera in his hands was still recording.

  “How did you know who I am?” Ajak asked Stark suddenly. “You know we are Eternals, that we’re not of this world… you know of Arishem. These are not details that you would find in historical records or mythology.”

  Tony’s smile didn’t waver, but Kingo caught a subtle shift in his posture. A fractional adjustment. Like someone getting ready to dodge. “It’s complicated—you’d be surprised the sorts of resources the Avengers have access to. We have friends in space these days and, like I said before, it’s not like you’ve all been particularly careful about hiding your existence,” he said evasively, holding up his hands in a ‘I’m backing off’ gesture. “But I get it, you want to be left alone. I won’t push you on it, but if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

  “That wasn’t an answer,” Ikaris said, a hard edge in his tone.

  “Look, I’ve actually got a lot of other things to deal with, so I don’t really have time to spend all afternoon playing twenty questions.” Stark jerked his thumb toward the Quinjet and took a step back. “Besides, I’ve gotta get Kingo back in time for his next shoot. It’s been real, but I guess I’ll see you around.”

  Twin beams of raw cosmic energy tore out of Ikaris’ eyes. The aircraft detonated in a shriek of shredded alloy and molten plasma, tearing apart mid-frame in a burst of flame and wreckage.

  At the same time, Stark ducked down, recoiling away from the energy beams as a half-dozen small rocket-propelled packages escaped from the back of the jet. Kingo had a bare second to react, but he didn’t know what to do. Part of him thought he should blast them out of the air, to stop Stark from suiting up, but Ikaris was the one acting completely out of line here. This was Iron Man, for crying out loud—not a Deviant!

  “What the shit, Ikaris?” Kingo yelped, looking at his friend with wide eyes.

  Karun had backpedalled several paces, his eyes wide and his breath coming in panicked gasps. Kingo wanted to reassure him that everything was okay but he was starting to think things really weren’t okay and he had no idea why. This had already escalated wildly beyond anything he could have expected.

  Stark’s hands were raised as he stood there, now fully clad in his red-and-platinum armour, repulsors whining to life as he trained them on Ikaris. “Easy, Kal-El. I’m not interested in a fight.”

  Ajak’s expression seemed conflicted, but she straightened up a little, her eyes fixed on Stark. “Tell us how you know what you know. Now.”

  Kingo was utterly lost. What was going on?

  The expressionless metal mask stared at her. “…Make me.”

  There was a beat where no one said anything, the only sound the crackling hiss of the Quinjet’s burning wreckage. Then Stark spun around, his suits thrusters blasting him off into the sky in an attempt to flee.

  “Stop him,” Ajak barked, her voice sharp and urgent.

  Golden traceries threaded their way over Kingo’s hands, channelling energy into chaotic spheres of cosmic energy. He hesitated. Was he about to shoot down Iron Man? One of the Avengers? He didn’t doubt his ability to do it, it was just…

  In that second of hesitation, however, Ikaris darted smoothly into the air. He was much faster than the Iron Man suit, catching up almost immediately, the two of them only maybe two hundred metres or so in the air. From the ground, Kingo could see his fellow Eternal’s hand clamp down, vice-like, on the suit’s ankle. Ikaris stopped dead in midair, bringing the fleeing Avenger to a halt.

  Iron Man’s thrusters continued to burn, trying to pull him free of Ikaris’s grip, but it was futile. There was a burst of spiralling lights, fire and trailing white smoke as the suit deployed flares right in his face, but he didn’t even react to them. Repulsor blasts went off next, fierce orange edged in blue, and Kingo was surprised to see Ikaris actually knocked back in the air, losing his grip on the armoured suit for a moment.

  Stark tried to capitalise, tearing away, but Ikaris recovered quickly and caught him again a moment later. This time, instead of simply grabbing him, he ripped him out of the sky, swinging him in a wide parabola and flinging him back down toward the ground. Stark tried to recover, thrusters firing, but whatever chance he had to pull out of the fall was completely banished when twin beams of golden cosmic energy lanced out of Ikaris’s eyes, scoring a direct hit and accelerating his fall. Kingo’s heart leapt into his throat and he watched with a sick feeling in his stomach as Stark slammed into the ground hard enough to crater it, the earth shuddering beneath his feet.

  Ikaris had only continued to sustain the blasts of energy for a second or two after impact, but Kingo knew that was already far too much. He let the cosmic energy he’d gathered in his palms disperse as he jogged over toward the cratered hole in the earth, a dreadful apprehension hanging heavy in his chest. Ikaris floated down to join him as he reached the edge and peered downward—the other Eternal’s shirt had a couple of scorched holes in it that hadn’t been there before, probably from the flares, but seemed otherwise untouched from the brief struggle.

  Buried ten, maybe fifteen feet below them, parts of the Iron Man suit were visible, embedded deep in the shattered rock. Not moving. The armour was completely dark, no lights in its eyes or along the scarred body. Stark’s suits were powerful, there was no doubt about it, but very few things could hold up to a sustained blast like that from Ikaris—his energy beams could tear through steel like it was tissue paper.

  “Oh my God,” he breathed, his eyes wide. “You killed Iron Man.”

  Ajak walked over, a complicated expression creasing her features. “Ikaris, that was reckless. I told you to stop him, not kill him.” She let out a small sigh, peering down into the earth for a moment. “A fight might not have been necessary. You’ve forced our hand.”

  “Our hand was already forced. The Avengers looking into us like this?” Ikaris said quietly, his jaw set. “I don’t know how, but he knew. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  “What do you mean ‘he knew’?” Kingo rounded on him angrily. “Knew what?”

  “Kingo,” Ajak interrupted, her tone suddenly gentle. She was looking past him. Kingo followed her gaze to where Karun was standing, visibly pale and trembling.

  “Karun,” Kingo said, his voice softening. “Please just… can you go inside the house? I need to talk to…” he trailed off, licking his lips as he shot his valet a pleading look. The frightened man nodded and turned, power-walking toward the farmhouse as though the only thing keeping him from breaking into a run was the thought that maybe Ikaris would shoot him in the back if he did. It tore at Kingo’s heart to see, and his gaze hardened when he turned back to the other two Eternals. “What is going on?”

  Ajak gave him a serious look. “Do you trust me, Kingo?”

  “Always. You know that.” He didn’t hesitate in his response, but a spike of anxiety had risen in Kingo’s chest and he swallowed hard. He did trust Ajak—and Ikaris, of course—but what was even happening right now?

  “You know that we’ll follow you ‘til the end, Ajak. As we always have,” Ikaris agreed.

  She sighed. “I was afraid something like this might happen one day. We need to reach out to the others, make sure everyone is okay. We still don’t know how Stark got his information and they could be in danger—we’d be foolish to assume he was working alone. If he knew, we need to assume that the rest of the Avengers do as well and act appropriately. After this mess,” she gestured to the crater, “We may be forced to do something about them,” she said, mouth twisting slightly like the words tasted bitter.

  “Do something about the Avengers?” Kingo asked, his voice cracking a little bit. “What? Why? They’re the good guys! Why would they have a problem with us?”

  “I can take care of the Avengers,” Ikaris said. His voice was calm and steady, in sharp contrast to the slightly-panicked edge to Kingo’s, like he was talking about taking an afternoon jog instead of taking on the world’s biggest, most famous team of superheroes.

  Ajak looked at him and shook her head slightly. “I don’t doubt your ability, but underestimating the Avengers would be a mistake. We need to be sure. We’ll bring everyone back together, then decide on the cleanest way to handle this.”

  Kingo threw up his hands. “Ajak, please, c’mon, this doesn’t make any sense,” he said, a desperate edge to his tone.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, glancing meaningfully at Ikaris again before turning toward Kingo fully. “There are things you do not know. That I have had to keep from you, for your own peace of mind and safety.”

  Kingo felt completely lost. Out of his depth. Ajak looked sad. And the way Ikaris was looking at him, it seemed like he already knew whatever it was that she was talking about, too.

  “If what I think is happening is happening,” Ajak said softly, “then I cannot protect you from the truth any longer. It’s time I told you about our true mission here on Earth.”