The Son of Mischief and Moonlight

The next morning, Harry was sneaking out of the temple again, as usual—slipping through the shadows like a master of mischief. The lake was calling him. Peace, quiet, the kind of silence only broken by the soft ripple of water and the occasional bird's squawk. Perfect for a guy who had a mountain of divine expectations on his shoulders and an even bigger pile of things to think about.

Unfortunately, peace was apparently off the table for today.

A presence loomed behind him—this wasn't the subtle approach of an assassin, no. This was Lei Kung. And if there was one thing Harry knew for sure, it was that when Lei Kung showed up, it wasn't to swap jokes about the weather. No, this was serious. Very serious. The kind of serious that felt like being hit by a thunderstorm wrapped in a dragon's tail.

"Harry," Lei Kung said, his voice carrying a weight that could have bent steel, "gather your friends. We need to talk. Now."

Harry sighed, already feeling a headache brewing. He had a feeling this wasn't going to be a "let's sit down, sip tea, and discuss feelings" type of conversation. It was going to be one of those life-altering, world-shattering talks. Fun.

Within minutes, Harry had rounded up the gang. Hermione, of course, was already on edge, her calculating eyes darting from side to side as if she were waiting for the other shoe to drop. Annabeth was right next to her, looking like she could pull out a blueprints for the conversation if needed—practical, as usual. Thalia was standing there, arms crossed tightly, stormy expression and all, while Luke looked like he'd just rolled out of bed and was wondering if he could get back in. Connor and Travis were bickering over something silly—probably something to do with who could throw a better punch—but one glare from Silena and they shut up like puppies caught stealing food. Clarisse, as always, stood like an immovable force of nature, arms crossed, waiting for whatever thunderclap Lei Kung was about to drop on them. And then there was Beckendorf, who had to tear himself away from some random piece of scrap metal he'd been fiddling with.

Lei Kung wasn't one for pleasantries, so he didn't waste time. His eyes scanned the group, like he was inspecting them for cracks in their armor. Then, without a single hint of fluff, he dropped the bomb.

"Shou-Lao has spoken," he announced, and the atmosphere in the room thickened like molasses. The name alone was enough to make Harry's stomach drop. Shou-Lao wasn't just any dragon. He was the dragon—the heart and soul of K'un Lun. And if there was one thing Harry knew, it was that the people who had the power to speak for Shou-Lao didn't just pass out hugs and good wishes.

"The time has come for you to leave K'un Lun. You have a mission. And it's one that will test everything you've learned. Not just your strength. Your mind. Your heart. Your very soul."

The words hung in the air like a thick fog. Harry could practically feel his spine straighten. A mission. That didn't sound so bad. Until Lei Kung's next words hit harder than a thunderclap.

"Harry," Lei Kung continued, "you will face Shou-Lao. You must confront him. Prove your worth. You will not defeat him yet... but you must face him, or you will never ascend to your full potential."

For a moment, Harry didn't know whether to laugh or pass out. Fight the dragon? The dragon who basically was K'un Lun? He'd been joking about fighting dragons earlier, but this... this was no joke.

"Wait, you mean fight him?" Harry asked, voice faltering despite his usual bravado. His mind was still scrambling to process that little detail. Shou-Lao was... well, a freakin' dragon who'd been around for centuries.

Lei Kung's eyes darkened. "You must face him. You cannot avoid it. You will not defeat him yet, but it will be through this confrontation that you will understand what you need to become."

The group went deathly silent. There was nothing funny about this. Nothing at all. Even Luke, who usually had a comeback for everything, was staring wide-eyed. Annabeth's calculating mind was already going a hundred miles a minute, her lips pressed together like she was already figuring out the best way to avoid an actual fight. Hermione, looking like she'd been slapped, was busy working through the potential consequences in her head. Thalia's usual bravado was on the fritz, and Clarisse? Well, her expression remained as grim as ever, though Harry knew she wasn't backing down from anything.

"And what about us?" Luke asked, his voice taut. "What's our role in all of this?"

Lei Kung's gaze softened just the slightest. It was still a hard look, but there was something in it that made Harry think they weren't just here to watch him get roasted by an ancient dragon. "You will all accompany Harry. You will face the trials together. This isn't just Harry's mission. It will shape all of you."

Everyone exchanged glances, the weight of that statement sinking in. Harry wasn't the only one with a target on his back now.

"So when do we leave?" Clarisse broke the silence, arms crossed like she was gearing up to throw down.

Lei Kung gave her a long, considering look before he replied. "Tomorrow. You leave tomorrow."

That brought a quiet sort of chaos. Demigods were not known for their love of sudden changes in plans. In fact, they tended to deal with everything in an organized chaos—preferably under their own terms. And none of them were in the mood for running headfirst into a fight with a dragon the size of a mountain.

But Harry? Harry couldn't help the dry chuckle that slipped out. "Well, this sounds like it's going to be a blast," he muttered, his usual sarcasm coming back even if the tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. "I've always wanted to fight a dragon. I just didn't think it would be the one who practically runs K'un Lun."

Hermione shot him a warning look, her voice tight. "Harry, this isn't something to joke about."

"I'm not joking," Harry said, with the smallest smirk creeping onto his face. "Well, maybe just a little. But honestly, when have I ever been ready for anything? At least I'm consistent, right?"

The group erupted into laughter, though it was the kind that came with a distinct undertone of nerves. It didn't matter. Harry knew one thing for sure: whether they were ready or not, they'd face this together.

And with that, they all walked out of the room, ready—or at least pretending to be—for whatever the trials had in store. The final test was coming. And Harry wasn't about to face it alone.

—

The next morning, the Xavier Institute's War Room was alive with the kind of tense energy that felt like the calm before a storm. The blue glow of the holographic table flickered, casting eerie shadows on the faces of the assembled team. Blueprints of Stryker's compound spun lazily in midair, each detail magnified and scrutinized by the group.

Nick Fury stood at the head of the table, his stance unwavering as he looked over the schematics with a sharp, calculating eye. He didn't like surprises. And this mission? This mission reeked of them. His one good eye flicked over to Logan, who was sitting with his arms crossed, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack concrete. The man had been unusually quiet, but Fury wasn't buying the act. Not for a second.

Logan's past was a messy puzzle he hadn't quite pieced together yet. All he knew for sure was that Stryker had been the one to strap adamantium to his bones and turn him into a living weapon. That was enough for Fury to know that Logan wasn't going to play nice in this mission. Fury didn't care about playing nice—he cared about getting the job done.

Logan, however, was looking for blood.

"Logan," Fury finally growled, voice low and dangerous, "you've been quiet. You got something to say?"

Logan didn't even flinch. He gave Fury a steely look, his voice low and gravelly, the kind of tone you'd expect from a man who'd been to hell and back—and didn't mind going again. "All I know is that Stryker made me into a monster. And I'm not letting him walk out of this alive. Simple as that."

"Yeah, I get it," Fury muttered, his eyes narrowing. "But we're not going in guns blazing. We need intel, we need precision." He shot a glance toward Hank McCoy, who was adjusting his glasses as he entered the room. "We're not dealing with just a man here. Stryker's got contingencies up the ass, and we need to be ready for anything."

Hank, towering over the rest of the team as always, folded his arms and let out a deep, thoughtful hum. "You're right, Fury. Stryker's compound is a fortress—not just physically, but mentally. He's been known to use psychological tactics on his subjects, manipulating them, breaking them down. It's not going to be just about muscle." He adjusted his glasses again. "And we need to prepare for traps—ones that aren't just physical."

Fury's eyes narrowed further. "And that's why we're bringing in the right people. We'll need brains and brawn both."

As if on cue, the door creaked open again, and Chiron rolled in with his wheelchair, his demeanor calm as ever. He surveyed the room with a quiet intensity, the kind that made you feel like he knew exactly what you were thinking before you did.

"Exactly," Chiron said softly, his voice carrying the weight of experience. "Stryker is more dangerous than you think. This isn't just a rescue mission—it's a psychological war." He cast a glance at Logan, who was still scowling. "We'll need to think on our feet. Be flexible."

Fury shot a brief, skeptical glance at Chiron, then turned to Hank again. "So what's the plan for getting in there?"

Hank adjusted his posture, the light from the holographic table reflecting off his glasses as he leaned forward. "I'll take point on the tech side. I can disable the facility's security systems once we're inside. The goal is to make sure we can move freely without triggering alarms." His eyes flicked to Logan, his voice softening. "But we have to be smart. We'll need to move quickly but carefully—there's no telling what Stryker's got waiting for us in there."

Logan cracked his knuckles loudly, a dry, harsh sound that made everyone pause. "No playing around. We get in, we get the kids, and we burn that place to the ground. Stryker's not leaving here alive. Not after what he did to me."

"Easy there, Wolverine," Peggy Carter's voice sliced through the tension. She stepped forward, her presence as commanding as ever. "We're not going in to start a war. We're going in to save lives. The moment you start thinking with your fists instead of your brain is the moment this operation falls apart."

Logan shot her a look, his face a storm of anger and frustration. "I don't need a lecture, Carter. Stryker's the one who turned me into this. You think I'm gonna just let that slide?"

"I'm not saying you should," Peggy replied, her voice calm but firm. "But there's more at stake here than revenge. There are children in that facility who need saving. Don't forget that."

Logan was about to retort, but before he could, the door opened again with a creak, and Coach Hedge strolled in, nonchalant as ever, twirling his spear around like it was a casual prop in his hand. "You guys are all so serious," he said with a wide grin. "What's the deal? Are we saving kids or blowing stuff up?"

"We're doing both," Fury said, his voice laced with the kind of dry sarcasm that only someone like him could pull off. "But you're the distraction, Hedge. We need you to keep the guards busy, stir up enough chaos so we can get in without getting shot full of holes."

Hedge's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous twinkle. "Oh, I'm real good at that. You just point me in the right direction, and I'll make sure everyone in that compound knows we're here. You'll hear the explosions before you even see me."

"I swear, if we don't get caught because you decided to throw a party in the middle of the facility, I'll make sure you regret it," Fury grumbled, though there was no heat in his voice. Fury was used to Hedge's brand of chaos. He just wished the satyr wouldn't enjoy it quite so much.

Hedge snorted, spinning his spear expertly. "Hey, somebody's got to have fun, right?"

Fury exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples. "Right. Well, we'll need a solid infiltration plan, and we need to stick to it. One mistake, and this whole operation could go south faster than you can say 'Stryker's got backup.'"

Logan leaned forward, his eyes narrowing at the holographic map as it continued to spin. "I don't care what it takes. We're going in, and we're getting those kids. And if Stryker's there... well, then he's just another body to be dealt with."

Chiron, ever the calm presence in the storm, nodded. "Agreed. But remember, our priority is the children. The moment we lose focus on that, the mission is compromised."

Fury looked around at the team, then gave a sharp nod. "Alright. We've got a plan, we've got our team. Now let's make it happen."

Logan stood up, his posture tense, fists clenching as he muttered under his breath. "Let's make sure we leave a trail of broken bones and blood. Stryker's not walking away from this."

"One thing at a time, Logan," Fury warned, but even he couldn't hide the glint of determination in his eye. "One thing at a time."

—

The next morning, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. Everyone had gathered, packed, and was ready for the mission ahead—well, at least pretending to be. Harry was keeping his usual levity in place, but even he could sense the heavy weight of what was to come.

As he made his way outside the temple, a strange sense of calm settled over him. In the midst of all the chaos and impending battles, there was Aether—his trusted Flying Nimbus. The cloud-like creature acted like a giant puppy, bounding up to Harry in a way that made everyone—especially the girls—gather around to pet and play with it.

"Come here, Aether," Harry grinned, patting the creature on the head. It immediately rolled over onto its back, clearly craving belly rubs, which only made the group chuckle.

"I think Aether's more excited about this mission than I am," Harry quipped, as the Nimbus wiggled beneath his hand, tail wagging like an overzealous dog.

"Why wouldn't he be?" Annabeth replied, grinning at the sight. "He's got a whole group of people to fawn over him."

Aether let out an excited coo, clearly enjoying the attention. Hermione was already cooing over the fluffy cloud, scratching him behind the ears. "It's like having a cloud that acts like a puppy. It's adorable!"

"Focus, everyone," Harry said with a wink, though it didn't stop the playful atmosphere for long. "We have a mission to get to. Let's not forget that."

The group slowly gathered around Harry, and despite the lighthearted scene, the mission was still hanging heavy in the air. The trials were one thing, but the real reason they were all here, together, was even more serious.

"Alright, here's what we're up against," Harry said, clapping his hands together to grab everyone's attention. "Our target is Stryker."

A collective groan went up from the group, but no one looked surprised. They all knew who Stryker was—who didn't? The man had a reputation for making nightmares look like bedtime stories. And worse, he wasn't alone. His mercenaries were nothing to sneeze at either.

"Before you say anything," Harry continued, trying to keep the mood light, "yes, he's the one who ruined Jean's tenth birthday, and yes, he's the guy who's been kidnapping mutant children to experiment on. And no, we don't like him. At all."

Brunhilde, who had been unusually quiet up until that point, finally spoke up. "I want him dead. No mercy. He's taken too much from us already. His time is up."

"Same here," Clarisse added, her voice like steel. "He's a monster. And I don't intend to let him keep hurting people."

Luke clenched his fists at his sides. "We'll deal with him. But we need to be smart. He won't make it easy."

"That's why we're all going together," Harry said, nodding toward the group. "We're not just going in blind. We're going in prepared. The more we know, the better our chances."

"Do we have a plan?" Annabeth asked, her eyes already calculating, analyzing their next move.

Harry chuckled softly. "Not exactly. But I know Stryker, and I know his type. He likes to kidnap kids, make them weapons, and then throw them away when they're no longer useful. This time, we stop him before that happens."

Hermione nodded, her face grim. "But how? We're going up against Stryker and his entire operation. He's got resources, and he's got people everywhere. He won't go down without a fight."

"That's the part I'm good at," Harry said with a smirk. "We'll take the fight to him. We won't give him a chance to breathe."

"Just don't expect me to be gentle," Luke said, a flicker of mischief in his eyes. "I'm not exactly known for being subtle."

"Good," Harry grinned. "Because if there's one thing Stryker hates, it's people who don't follow his rules."

Beckendorf, who had been quietly fiddling with some sort of gadget in the background, suddenly spoke up, "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve. If we need to sneak in, I can make sure we're not seen. But if we need a more direct approach…" He grinned, his eyes lighting up with that signature "I'm up to something" look.

"Alright, then," Harry said, turning to face the rest of the group. "We go in, we take Stryker down, and we bring those kids home. No hesitation."

The group nodded in agreement, their resolve solidifying with each passing second.

"Before we leave," Harry added, "we'll need to make sure everyone's prepared. This won't be a walk in the park. Stryker's got everything from enhanced mercenaries to a network of people who won't hesitate to kill to protect him. But I know we can do this."

"Let's get to it then," Clarisse growled, rolling her shoulders like she was itching for a fight.

"Right," Harry said, giving Aether one last belly rub before turning to face his friends. "Let's do this."

With the mission ahead, they all set off together—ready, or at least pretending to be ready—for the challenges ahead. Harry wasn't about to back down, and neither was anyone else. Stryker wouldn't know what hit him.

—

The air shimmered briefly around Harry as he drew on his shadow-travel ability. The familiar warmth of darkness wrapped around him like an old, trusted cloak. He gestured to the group, and with a nod, they followed suit—prepared for the journey ahead.

Aether, Harry's loyal Nimbus, was floating next to him, the magical creature practically wagging its ethereal tail, sending a ripple of playful energy through the group. Harry couldn't help but grin as he patted Aether's fluffy head, the creature's golden fur catching the light. Aether had a way of easing the tension, especially when the destination was a little unsettling, like a surprise trip to Camp Half-Blood with a mission as big as this one.

Within seconds, Harry's power reached out, swallowing them whole in a whirl of shadows.

When the world snapped back into focus, they were standing in the middle of Camp Half-Blood, near the familiar, welcoming chaos that was always present. The camp was alive with the hustle of demigods, but there was a peculiar energy in the air today, a combination of excitement and unease. The group had barely taken in their surroundings when they saw a familiar figure step out from the shadow of the camp's edge.

Coach Hedge.

He was already grumbling, holding a clipboard with one hand while the other scratched his head in frustration. He didn't exactly blend in with the rest of the camp's crowd—he had an air of gruffness about him that was impossible to miss, even if he was dressed in his usual ripped-up clothes and carrying his signature bronze horns.

"Hey, kid!" Hedge greeted Harry, though his tone was a little more tense than usual. "Didn't expect you to be here yet. Thought you guys were still gearing up back at K'un Lun."

Harry gave a lazy shrug, looking around at the familiar faces gathered at the camp, notably Jean, Natasha, Yelena, Katie, and Kayla. All of them had their bags packed, looking ready for the mission ahead, even if the serious expressions on their faces told a different story.

"Plans change," Harry replied with his trademark smirk. "Figured you could use some backup. Also, Shadow-travel's kind of my thing now."

"You'll have to teach me that one," Hedge muttered under his breath, though his focus quickly shifted to the kids he was supposed to be escorting. "All right, gang, you ready to head to the Institute?"

The kids—Jean, Natasha, Yelena, Katie, and Kayla—gave varying nods, the tension in the air palpable as they exchanged glances. It wasn't just the mission that weighed heavily on their minds; it was also the fact that they had all been caught up in something much bigger than themselves. Their quiet, nervous energy was obvious, and it was clear they weren't as eager to leave the safety of Camp Half-Blood as they had been when they'd first arrived.

"Not all of you will fit in my van," Hedge said, squinting at the group. "I wasn't expecting this many passengers, and you know how cramped things get in there. Not sure how we're gonna manage all the extra gear either."

Harry didn't flinch. Instead, he simply shrugged nonchalantly. "Leave it to me."

He raised a hand, dark shadows flickering under his feet. His power surged outward, and in a flash, the group found themselves standing before the grand entrance of the Institute—the place that had taken in mutants from all corners of the world. Coach Hedge looked on, blinking in disbelief.

"You really are showing off now, kid," he muttered, his voice a blend of admiration and slight annoyance.

The group began to shuffle around, adjusting to their new surroundings and the serious nature of the mission they were about to embark on. Meanwhile, the girls—Hermione, Annabeth, Thalia, and Clarisse—had already taken it upon themselves to introduce Aether to the younger campers. The magical Nimbus was happily being fussed over, especially by the girls, who were all too eager to scratch behind its ears and play with its wispy, ethereal form.

"Who's a good boy?" Yelena was the first to say, her hand brushing through the soft, glowing fur of Aether, making the creature trill in delight.

Katie laughed softly, bending down to pet Aether's tail as it swished back and forth. "I think it likes us more than the rest of them," she said, grinning as Aether playfully bumped against her.

Kayla, who had been quiet, found herself smiling as Aether nuzzled her hand. "You're lucky, Katie. This little guy might just be the most adorable thing here."

Harry observed the scene with a faint, fond smile. It was strange, he thought, that no matter how complicated things got, the simple things—like moments of peace, laughter, and the bond they shared with their companions—could make everything seem just a little bit lighter.

"All right, kids," Hedge said, pulling their attention back. "We'll get inside soon enough. You all better get ready for what's next."

With one last look at the group, Harry turned to Coach Hedge, giving a small nod. "Let's go then. Stryker's not gonna stop because we need a break."

The group gathered around, the excitement mingling with the nerves. It was a strange, unsettling feeling. They weren't just heading into the unknown. They were going after someone who had already made enemies of them—someone dangerous, someone who had crossed the line in ways that couldn't be ignored.

And as they walked toward the Institute, Harry felt the weight of the task ahead. This wasn't just another mission. This was personal.

Stryker wouldn't know what hit him.

—

The Xavier Institute loomed in front of the group, its grandeur impossible to ignore. The mansion, a mix of old-world charm and sleek modernity, sat like a silent guardian, keeping watch over the mutants inside. Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of anticipation. If there was one thing he knew, it was that this place had its secrets—secrets that he was about to get knee-deep in.

He'd led the group through the grand foyer with all the casual swagger he could muster, his hands buried deep in his pockets, though his mind was working a thousand miles a minute. Stryker was out there, and things were only going to get worse. No matter how powerful or dangerous these new friends—or enemies—might be, Harry knew one thing for sure: they didn't stand a chance unless they worked together.

The door to the meeting room swung open, and in the blink of an eye, the room went from calm to charged. Standing at the center was Nick Fury, the man who'd made it his life's work to get into everyone's business. His single, unblinking eye studied the group, an eyebrow quirked in that way that made you wonder if he could see right through you.

Behind him, Peggy Carter stood with her arms crossed, her stance more commanding than most generals Harry had met. The silver in her hair and the lines on her face spoke of experience, of battles fought and won, and yet her eyes were sharp, full of life and fire.

And then there was Logan.

Harry didn't even need to take a breath to know that Logan was already sizing him up. The older mutant's senses were legendary, and Harry could feel the scrutiny from across the room. There was something in the air—something primal—and Harry almost smirked at the idea that Logan, with all his gruffness, was getting the same vibe from him.

Fury's voice broke the tension like a slap. "Kid," he said, his gravelly voice as gruff as ever. "You look familiar. You... kids. You're the ones who took down Juggernaut, right?"

Harry didn't flinch. In fact, he couldn't help the grin that tugged at his lips. "Yep. That was us. A little team effort," he said casually, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. "Though, I gotta admit, we were kinda expecting something a little... scarier."

Fury didn't flinch, but Harry could see the flicker of recognition in his one good eye. Fury was calculating. He was always calculating. "And yet, here you are. A bunch of kids—powers or no powers—telling me you've got what it takes to stop Stryker? That's a tall order."

Before Harry could shoot back some smart remark, Chiron rolled forward in his wheelchair, looking every bit the part of the old schoolteacher. He adjusted his glasses with a slow, deliberate motion before speaking. "Actually, Fury, that's the one I've been telling you about. The boy leading them."

Fury looked from Chiron to Harry, his face darkening. "Him?"

Chiron didn't answer immediately. Instead, his eyes slid to the group of demigods, then back to Fury. "Yes. That's Haris Lokison," he said, nodding toward Harry. "He's... unique."

Peggy's eyes sharpened. "Unique? We're beyond unique, Chiron. We need someone who can handle Stryker. And I'm not sure that kids with powers—however impressive—are going to cut it."

At that, Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Gee, thanks. Just what I wanted to hear," he muttered under his breath, though loud enough for everyone to hear. He gave Fury a half-hearted shrug. "But hey, if you want to give us a shot, we can prove it."

Logan's eyes narrowed. "I can smell something different about you," he said, his voice low and rough. "Not quite human, not quite... anything I've dealt with before." He took a slow step forward, studying Harry like a predator eyeing prey.

Fury's gaze flicked between Logan and Harry. "Yeah, I've got a feeling there's more to this kid than he's letting on."

But before any more questions could be asked, Chiron—ever the enigmatic figure—did something no one in the room could've possibly anticipated. His hands gripped the sides of his wheelchair, and with a smooth, practiced motion, he rose from it. At first, it was subtle—just a shift in posture, but then—boom. The wheelchair seemed to vanish, and in its place, a fully grown, battle-hardened centaur stood in front of them, his hooves clicking sharply on the floor.

The room fell into stunned silence.

Even Logan blinked, clearly taken aback. Fury's hand hovered over his gun. Peggy froze. All eyes were fixed on the creature that stood before them.

Harry, meanwhile, did his best not to laugh. Perfect timing, Chiron, he thought. He had no idea if Chiron had planned this little surprise, but it was certainly effective.

Fury was the first to break the silence. "What the hell?" His voice was steady, though there was no mistaking the surprise in his tone.

"Yup," Chiron said with a smirk, obviously enjoying the confusion. "That's me." He gestured to Harry. "And these kids—these demigods? They're the only ones who can stop Stryker."

The room went dead quiet again. Fury blinked, clearly trying to process the idea that a centaur—a freaking centaur—was standing in front of him, explaining that these kids were gods in the making.

Demigods, to be precise.

"Demigods?" Fury said, his voice low with disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Chiron met his gaze unflinchingly. "The children of gods, Fury. Gods. They are the offspring of the ancient gods of Greece and Asgard. Their power comes from realms that you can't even begin to understand."

Peggy's jaw tightened, but her voice was calm, probing. "So, you're telling me that these kids—children—are the ones who can stop a man like Stryker? I'm not sure I'm buying this. We need real help."

"Real help?" Chiron's voice was quiet but firm. "You've got it right here. These children are not just some powered teenagers. They are warriors, leaders, and they carry the very blood of gods in their veins. Stryker's threat is nothing compared to what they face every day."

Logan took a step back, his wild eyes flicking between Harry and Chiron. "You're telling me this kid?" he asked, jerking his head toward Harry, "is a son of gods?"

"Actually," Harry said, grinning, "two gods. Loki and Artemis, in case you were wondering."

Fury exhaled sharply. "This is insane."

Harry shot him a wry smile. "Yeah, well, welcome to my world."

The room was tense, everyone on edge, but before anyone could get another word in, Chiron's voice cut through the silence again, low and dangerous.

"You think they're just kids?" he asked, his gaze fixed firmly on Fury, Peggy, and Logan. "Then you've underestimated them."

And just like that, the room was filled with an uncertainty that was almost palpable. The tension hung thick in the air, the kind you could almost taste, like the first flash of lightning before a thunderstorm. What happened next would change everything.

But for now, the room stood at the edge of something... and no one knew exactly how it was going to play out.

---

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