In Marvel with the Force?

Flickers of electricity illuminated the dimly lit workshop as Tyr carefully soldered the final connection on a small, triangular object. Sweat trickled down his temple, the product of hours of intense focus and effort. He sat hunched over his workbench, surrounded by scattered tools, wires, and technical manuals, every inch of his space a testament to the singular obsession that had consumed him for weeks.

Tyr's violet eyes gleamed with anticipation as he wiped his hands on a rag, the faint hum of the object beneath his fingers sending a shiver of excitement down his spine. With a deep breath, he reached for the small button at its center.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered.

The moment he pressed the button, the device came to life, glowing intensely with a deep purple light that pulsed rhythmically, like the heartbeat of a living creature. The soft hum grew louder, filling the room with an electric energy that seemed to dance in the air.

Tyr stared at it, his breath catching in his throat. And then, the realization hit him.

"YES! YES! YES! I DID IT!" he screamed, jumping to his feet and throwing his arms in the air. "I ACTUALLY DID IT!"

For weeks, he had poured over every resource he could find on Howard Stark's original arc reactor, a technological marvel created decades ago. Tyr had become obsessed with the idea of miniaturizing it, just as Stark's son would eventually do. It had seemed impossible at first, a goal far beyond his reach, but here it was—a functional reactor. Rudimentary and unpolished, sure, but functional nonetheless.

The joy coursing through him was overwhelming. After countless failures and late nights of trial and error, the glowing device in front of him was proof that his efforts had paid off.

"Tyr?!" Finn's voice called out from beyond the door, filled with alarm.

A second later, the door burst open, and Finn appeared, wielding a taser in one hand and an axe in the other. His face was a mix of panic and determination, his eyes scanning the room for danger.

"What's going on? Are you alright?" Finn demanded, his voice sharp.

Before Finn could say more, Tyr ran to him, practically tackling the older man in a hug. The boy's smile was radiant, his eyes shimmering with pure joy.

"I DID IT, FINN!" Tyr shouted, his voice trembling with excitement. "I ACTUALLY DID IT!"

Finn froze for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden embrace. Slowly, he lowered the axe and taser, his confusion giving way to a hesitant smile. "Did what, kid? What's got you acting like you just won the lottery?"

Tyr stepped back, grabbing the glowing device from the workbench and holding it up like a trophy. "THIS! I made this!"

Finn blinked, staring at the object in Tyr's hands. "What... what is that?"

"It's a reactor," Tyr explained, his words spilling out in a rush. "It's based on Howard Stark's arc reactor, but I miniaturized it. It's not perfect, but it works! Do you have any idea what this means?"

Finn stared at Tyr, then at the device, then back at Tyr. He didn't know the first thing about technology, but even he could tell that whatever Tyr had created was something extraordinary.

"Kid," Finn said slowly, his voice filled with awe, "I don't think you realize just how insane this is. People spend their whole lives trying to make stuff like that. And you just... what? Built it in the back room of a corner shop?"

Tyr laughed, the sound bright and unrestrained. "Pretty much!"

Finn shook his head, a mix of disbelief and admiration on his face. "You're something else, Tyr. I mean it. I knew you were smart, but this... This is genius-level stuff. Tony Stark-level stuff."

Hearing Finn compare him to Tony Stark sent a jolt through Tyr's chest. It wasn't just the praise—it was the weight behind it. Finn had always been supportive, but seeing the pride in the older man's eyes made Tyr's achievement feel even more significant.

"I couldn't have done it without you, Finn," Tyr said, his voice softening. "You gave me a place to work, a place to think... a place to be myself. Thank you."

Finn's expression softened, his thoughts briefly drifting to the grandson he had lost. Tyr's excitement reminded him so much of the boy—his unbridled passion, his drive to create something meaningful. It was a bittersweet moment, but one that filled Finn with a sense of purpose he hadn't felt in years.

"You're a good kid, Tyr," Finn said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Now, let's celebrate. And by that, I mean you're taking a break before you pass out."

Tyr grinned. "Fine, but only because you asked."

As Finn left the workshop to grab some snacks, Tyr sat back at his workbench, staring at the glowing reactor. For the first time in weeks, he allowed himself to savor the moment.

---

The next few days were a blur of fine-tuning and testing. Tyr's mastery over his telekinesis had improved significantly, and he was now able to use it even under pressure. This newfound control had opened up new possibilities for his projects, allowing him to manipulate delicate components with precision.

But as much as Tyr wanted to focus solely on his work, the city had other plans.

Unbeknownst to him, his vigilante activities had drawn the attention of Silvio Manfredi—Silvermane. The aging mob boss had grown tired of hearing about a shadowy figure disrupting his operations and had ordered his men to set a trap.

---

One evening, as Tyr prepared for another patrol, Finn caught him by the door.

"Be careful out there, kid," Finn said, his voice heavy with concern. "Things have been too quiet lately. Makes me nervous."

Tyr nodded, adjusting the straps on his bag. "I'll be fine, Finn. Don't worry."

But as he stepped into the night, a faint unease settled over him.

He didn't know it yet, but the streets he had come to know so well were about to become far more dangerous.