The half-hour flight through the "desolate zone" felt like the blink of an eye to Leander Hayes, but for Jason, it was thirty minutes of intense internal debate. As they neared the first coordinate, Jason stole a glance at the boy standing beside him. Leander wasn't sitting; he was hovering near the reinforced glass of the cockpit, his golden eyes reflecting the distant stars.
"Alright, kid, listen up," Jason said, his voice tight. "We've hit the first Jump Point. From here on out, the Ghost Shadow is going to pull eight consecutive leaps. We're going to punch through three different dimensional layers. Even with the ship's stabilization field, the spatial gravity is going to try to turn your insides into outsides. Is this really your first time doing a hop?"
In the short time they'd spent chatting, Jason had tried to pry information out of Leander. He was fascinated, and more than a little skeptical, about this "Earth" the boy kept mentioning. Leander's descriptions of blue oceans, green trees, and a single yellow sun sounded like a fairy tale.
"Never heard of it," Jason had grumbled earlier. "Doesn't sound like any Tier 1 interstellar civilization I've ever traded with. You sure you didn't just fall off a cargo hauler from the Kree border?"
Leander just shrugged, his gaze fixed on the abyss. "It's okay. I've survived worse than a little turbulence. Just jump. My physical condition is... better than it looks."
A predatory, jagged smile spread across Jason's face, revealing teeth that looked like they belonged in a nightmare. He didn't warn the boy again. Instead, he slammed both hands forward, engaging the thrusters to their absolute thermal limit.
A localized spatial vibration hummed through the Ghost Shadow. Suddenly, the space in front of the ship warped, forming a shimmering, hexagonal lattice that looked like a gargantuan, glowing beehive.
The spaceship crashed into the "hive" with a violent lurch.
Leander's eyes widened. This wasn't like a plane ride. Each time they crossed an interdimensional wall, the universe literally reshaped itself. They darted through gaps in reality, entering twisted, psychedelic dimensions where time seemed to bend. One moment they were passing a desolate, glass-like planet; the next, they were in a space where bizarre, flowing patterns of liquid light replaced the stars.
As they leaped, a massive spatial pulling force acted on Leander's body. In three-dimensional space, he was being rotated along an axis he couldn't even see. Beneath Jason's pilot seat, a heavy-duty spatial stabilizer was humming, counteracting the force so the alien wouldn't be reduced to a puddle of gore.
However, the stabilizer under Leander's seat—the one Jason had intentionally left deactivated—remained cold and silent.
Jason looked over, expecting to see the boy screaming or unconscious. Instead, he saw Leander leaning against the glass, his face inches from the hull, watching the dimensional carnage with the enthusiasm of a kid at a fireworks show. He looked completely unaffected, his body absorbing the spatial distortion as if it were a light breeze.
Jason's jaw dropped, his face looking slightly lopsided through his own eye-stabilizer. How is this even possible? he thought, his panic rising. When I took my first jump, I almost puked my lungs out, and that was just a standard 3D wormhole. This kid is standing there like he's on a tour bus.
Jason had lied. He hadn't planned for eight jumps. He was taking the long, illegal route to avoid Nova Corps patrols—nineteen jumps in total. He wanted to break the boy's spirit, to make him weak enough to be handed over to a collector.
But as the Ghost Shadow darted out of the final jump, the "nineteen hops" had done nothing but make Leander more excited. They reached their destination: a point suspended perfectly between two brilliant, fixed stars.
Before they sat Xandar. The jewel of the Nova Empire. A planet of gold, water, and light that never saw a true night.
Malibu, Earth
The tension in Tony Stark's living room was thick enough to cut with a laser. He looked at the woman who had just walked into his home—a ghost from a New Year's Eve party in 1999.
"Just stand right there," Tony said, his voice tight.
Maya Hansen stopped. She looked at Tony, then at the empty Iron Man suit standing in the corner. "Do you even know Chinese, Tony? Do you remember anything about that night?"
Tony's face mask retracted. He looked at her, his eyes darting to the television monitors. "Don't be offended. I've forgotten what I had for breakfast."
"Gluten-free waffles," Jarvis chimed in faithfully.
"See? Jarvis remembers for me," Tony snapped. "Look, Maya, I'm a little busy with a terrorist mastermind right now. If you're here for an autograph, now is a bad time."
"Tony, listen to me," Maya said, her voice trembling. She looked around the room, her eyes wide with anxiety. "We need to speak alone. Somewhere safe. There's an urgent matter regarding Extremis."
"I would have loved to do the 'alone' thing with you thirteen years ago," Tony said, walking toward the stairs. "But I have a girlfriend now. And she has a very low tolerance for old botanist flings."
Just then, two suitcases were tossed from the third-floor balcony, landing with a heavy thud. Pepper Potts followed them down, her face a mask of frustration. "Tony, do we have guests?"
"Pepper, this is Maya Hansen. An old friend... well, an acquaintance. A botanist." Tony leaned in and whispered to Maya, "Don't you dare tell her about the kid."
"She's thirteen now, Tony. And I'm not here to talk about your private life," Maya said, turning to Pepper. "I saw the news. Tony, you challenged a terrorist to a duel at your home address. I don't think you realize that you aren't winning this."
"I'll get better," Tony muttered.
"Happy is in the hospital because of these people," Pepper said, ignoring Maya and grabbing Tony's arm. "Tony, we are leaving. Now. Pack a bag or don't, but we are getting out of this house."
Maya nodded vigorously. "She's right. This place has been targeted. You're exposed."
"Great idea! Let's go!" Tony shouted, but as Pepper reached for Maya's bag, he pointed a finger. "No. Leave her bag. That's a bad idea."
"Tony, taking a bag is what normal people do when they leave a house!" Pepper yelled.
"I can't protect you out there!" Tony roared back.
The argument was cut short by the television. Maya's eyes drifted to the screen, which was showing a live news feed. "Is that... is that the view from outside?"
Tony and Pepper turned. On the screen, a camera from a news chopper was zoomed in on the Malibu villa. A second later, three long-range rocket projectiles entered the frame.
Tony's heart skipped a beat. He turned to the window just as the first missile struck the outer balcony.
BOOM!
The explosion shattered the reinforced glass, sending a wall of fire and debris screaming into the living room. The impact threw them all back. Tony, reacting with the instincts of a man who had lived in armor for years, reached out his hand toward Pepper.
"Pepper!"
The Mark 42, Tony's latest autonomous suit, responded to his gesture. It didn't fly to him—it flew to her. Piece by piece, the gold-and-red plates slammed onto Pepper's body, encasing her in the suit's protective shell in less than a second.
The floor collapsed beneath her, but the suit's impact-absorption systems kicked in, shielding her from the fall. Tony, however, was thrown against the far wall, rolling in pain as the roof began to cave in.
Outside, three armed helicopters surged forward from the coastline. In the lead bird sat Eric Savin, Killian's cold-blooded enforcer. He watched through his HUD as the missiles reloaded. "Finish it," he commanded.
Xandar Orbit
"Jason... that definitely wasn't eight jumps."
Leander Hayes stood up, his gaze narrowing as he looked at the sprawling, vibrant planet of Xandar through the cockpit window. With a sharp snap of his fingers, the metal belt around Jason's waist suddenly sprouted a dozen thin, whip-like wires that coiled around the pilot's arms and throat.