The dust settled slowly over Manhattan, but the city didn't sleep. Sirens wailed for days. Cleanup crews worked around the clock. The Avengers became legends overnight—photos of them eating shawarma went viral before the rubble was cleared. Alex Kane watched it all from the shadows, quietly counting the cost and the opportunity.
He returned home at dawn on May 5, slipping through the back door so Elena wouldn't wake. She found him asleep on the couch at noon, still in his soot-streaked hoodie. She didn't ask questions—just draped a blanket over him and left a plate of parathas on the coffee table.
When he woke, the first thing he did was check Aether.
Nine of the fifteen drones had survived. Four were damaged but recoverable; the rest were lost to Chitauri fire or structural collapse. The data haul was immense: 3.7 terabytes of battlefield telemetry, Chitauri physiology scans from proximity samples, energy signatures from the portal, even fragments of Loki's scepter waveform captured by a lucky overhead pass.
Aether was already processing.
*[Post-Event Analysis Complete.]*
*[Chitauri Weak Point Confirmation: Energy core disruption → 98% instant kill rate. Leviathan neural cluster vulnerability: Confirmed.]*
*[Financial Opportunity Projection: Stark Industries stock dip expected 18–32% in next 72 hours due to property damage + public scrutiny. KaneTech positioning: Optimal for acquisition / licensing surge.]*
*[Civilian Impact Mitigation Credit: Estimated 2,100–2,800 lives preserved in direct/indirect zones.]*
Alex exhaled. Not victory. Progress.
The market reacted exactly as predicted. By May 7, Stark Industries shares tanked 24%—damage to Stark Tower, questions about accountability, whispers of government oversight. Alex had been waiting. Using a series of layered brokerage accounts (opened under shell LLCs tied to KaneTech), he bought aggressively on the dip: $180,000 worth at the bottom. When the stock rebounded 41% within three weeks (hero worship + Tony's inevitable PR pivot), the position ballooned to $420,000.
He didn't cash out. He rolled profits into diversified holdings: emerging clean-energy startups (knowing arc reactor tech would leak eventually), biotech firms working on rapid tissue regeneration (Banner influence), and a quiet stake in a fledgling quantum computing outfit.
KaneTech itself exploded.
The drones had become minor legends in first-responder circles. Firefighters posted grainy helmet-cam footage of black quadcopters dropping med-kits into collapsed buildings, guiding trapped civilians to exits. No branding. No claims. But the NYPD and FDNY started asking questions. Anonymous inquiries led to a single encrypted email address Alex monitored.
By late May, he had three contracts:
- NYC Emergency Management: Licensing deal for Aether's predictive swarm routing. $1.2 million upfront + royalties.
- American Red Cross (pilot program): Drone-based supply drops in disaster zones. $750,000 grant + data-sharing agreement.
- Private security firm (SHIELD front? He suspected): Custom stealth recon units. $2.8 million non-disclosure deal.
Total influx: $4.75 million in under sixty days.
He kept it clean. Taxes paid through proper channels. Elena's name stayed on some paperwork as "consultant" to legitimize the family angle. She stared at the bank statements one evening, hand over her mouth.
"Alex… this is real?"
He nodded. "It's from the drones. And some smart investments."
She hugged him fiercely. "I always knew you were special. But this…"
He copied another sliver of her pride and relief. Her health markers continued improving—Asgardian stamina traces making her look ten years younger. She started yoga. Joined a book club. Lived.
With the money came upgrades.
Alex moved the server farm to a secure, leased commercial space in Long Island City—reinforced, biometric locks, redundant power. Aether evolved to v1.0: full natural-language interface, predictive modeling at near-sentient levels, self-optimizing code. He gave it a voice—calm, neutral, faintly amused when it caught him in logical loops.
"Query: Why risk exposure during the invasion when anonymity was priority?"
Alex shrugged at the speaker. "Because doing nothing felt worse."
Aether paused—a programmed tic. "Noted. Human value weighting adjusted."
The first major product launch came in July: "Echo Aid," a consumer-facing app tied to a new line of affordable home-security drones. Features: autonomous patrol, emergency broadcast, medical telemetry relay to 911. Marketed as "family protection for uncertain times." It sold out pre-orders in forty-eight hours.
Revenue spiked again.
But Alex didn't celebrate with parties or cars. He invested in people.
Tommy got a full scholarship to Parsons (Alex anonymously funded a grant). Sofia enrolled in nursing school debt-free (a "hospital alumni fund" she never questioned). Jamal's repair shop got a tech upgrade—new diagnostic tools, courtesy of KaneTech "beta testing."
Elena received the biggest gift quietly: a trust fund seeded with $500,000, structured to pay out incrementally over decades. She thought it was from an "investment windfall." He let her believe it.
Romance remained on the horizon. He noticed more now—women at tech meetups, a barista who smiled too long—but connections felt secondary. The invasion had crystallized his priority: protect the circle. Expand it slowly. No distractions until the board stabilized.
One night in August, he stood on the new office roof (a small converted warehouse), watching Manhattan's skyline. Stark Tower was under repair—soon to be Avengers Tower. The city looked almost normal again.
Aether's voice came through his earpiece.
"Projection update: Next major event horizon—Sokovian incident probability 78% within 36 months. Ultron emergence risk: 62%. Recommend accelerated power acquisition and infrastructure hardening."
Alex nodded to the empty air.
"Already on it."
He opened his palm. A faint holographic interface shimmered—his own addition, Stark-inspired.
*[Current Status]*
*[Net Worth (liquid + assets): $8.4 million]*
*[Lifespan Projection: +110–160 years]*
*[Power Suite Completeness: 24% of known MCU peak-human+ entities sampled]*
*[Next Target: Scarlet Witch / Quicksilver traces. Sokovia relief efforts inbound.]*
He closed his hand.
The world was healing.
But the next storm was already gathering.
And Alex Kane was building an ark—one careful, calculated piece at a time.
(Word count: 1002)