Marvel: A.T.L.A.S. - Ghost Protocol

Phillips Academy, Andover - Spring 1979

Nine-year-old Caspian moved silently through the academy's darkened library, his Emperor Eye active as he practiced combining stealth exercises with his studies. Even at this hour, the ancient building hummed with its own particular rhythm—creaking floorboards, settling foundations, the whisper of ventilation systems. All patterns to be read, analyzed, and used.

"You know," Tony's voice came from behind a shelf, "normal kids don't spend their Friday nights memorizing advanced physics and practicing whatever ninja thing you're doing."

"Good thing we're not normal then," Caspian replied, detecting the slight strain in his friend's voice. Howard had cancelled another visit, citing urgent business with military contracts.

Tony emerged from behind the shelves, hands covered in graphite from his latest engineering sketches. "Got the new processor design working. Want to see?"

Before Caspian could respond, his watch vibrated with a specific pattern: an incoming secure communication from his mother. "Tomorrow morning? I have something to handle first."

Tony waved him off, understanding the unspoken. After nearly two years, he'd grown accustomed to Caspian's occasional mysterious disappearances. "Try not to make too much noise coming back in."

Minutes later, in his secured room, Caspian activated the hidden communication panel. Director Valemont's face appeared, as composed as ever.

"Your progress reports are satisfactory," she began without preamble. "Walter informs me your integration of abilities continues to advance. However, it's time to accelerate your preparation."

"The timeline has changed?" Caspian kept his voice neutral, though his Emperor Eye caught the subtle tension in his mother's posture.

"The world is shifting. A.T.L.A.S. monitors suggest increasing enhanced activity worldwide. Your father and I agree—your training needs to expand." She paused, studying him. "You'll begin advanced tactical instruction this summer. Howard Stark has invited Tony to spend the break at their mansion. You'll decline."

Caspian nodded, already calculating how to explain this to Tony without raising suspicion. "Will I be training at Titan?"

"Initially. Walter will handle the arrangements." The slight softening around her eyes was the closest thing to maternal warmth Carrie typically displayed. "You're progressing well, Caspian. But the path ahead requires more."

After the communication ended, Caspian stood at his window, gazing out over the academy grounds. His Emperor Eye traced the patterns of security patrols, both the school's regular guards and the subtle presence of A.T.L.A.S. personnel.

Walter's quiet entrance broke his thoughts. "Your evening exercises, young master?"

Caspian turned from the window. "Yes."

In the converted basement, shadows played across the walls as Caspian moved through his advanced kata sequences. Each movement precise, lethal, a perfect fusion of Ninjak's abilities and the Emperor Eye's predictive capabilities. The weight of expectations—from his mother, from A.T.L.A.S., from the Valemont legacy itself—drove each strike, each block, each perfectly executed technique.

Blood trickled from his knuckles as he continued his training long into the night. In the end, that's what separated him from his peers at Phillips Academy. Not just the abilities or the training, but the willingness to bleed in the darkness while others slept.