Drone

"Problem solved."

Charlie Cooper scanned the scene again, the HUD on his visor confirming that Usak, the last of the ancient threats, had been completely incinerated under the focused heat-beam. Satisfied, he disengaged from the Steel Bat armor, taking off the headset with a long breath.

"Friday, you're in charge," he said, slipping back into his chair. "Set the return path and get the armor back to the Watchtower."

"On it, sir," Friday replied seamlessly.

To Felix, who had been watching everything from a corner, the whole operation had seemed surreal. He saw the armored figure take down an enemy who was nearly incomprehensible in his eyes. Then, as if on cue, the Steel Bat's propulsion system flared up, launching it out of the broken window and into the night, disappearing as quickly as it had arrived.

He stared after the retreating figure, dazed by the speed and ease with which the ancient threat had been dismantled. For a brief moment, he was completely lost in thought.

"Hey, time to wrap it up."

Felix turned to see Deadpool still in the room, looking as nonchalant as ever. He realized Batman had already disappeared into the shadows, leaving only the odd red-suited mercenary.

"Guess the rest is up to you," Deadpool said, with an exaggerated wink beneath his mask. "Clean up the scene, smooth over the details about why your dear old mayor had such a, uh, tragic 'accident' tonight—all that PR magic you guys handle so well."

"Uh…right," Felix managed, snapping back to reality. But he still seemed distracted, almost disturbed.

Watching from the Watchtower, Charlie noticed Felix's unsettled expression. Turning the mic back on, he spoke with a bit more softness in his tone. "Something on your mind?"

Felix looked around the wrecked room, his eyes drifting over the broken furniture and shattered glass. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. I… I've just been thinking," he admitted slowly, his voice almost uncertain. "You know, even before tonight, I never felt fully connected to my family's business. I always felt like… like my life was custom-built. But it wasn't my blueprint.

"My schools, the friends I made, the routines—I didn't get to choose any of it. Even joining the Ninth Division, that was supposed to be my own choice, something real that I could call my own." He hesitated, swallowing. "But now I'm not so sure. Tonight, it's like I realized there's so much about my family I don't know… and maybe I've never really known them at all."

Charlie's voice came through the speaker, cutting through the silence. "So, then… do you think the work you do at the Ninth Division is meaningful?"

Felix looked up, surprised at the simplicity of the question. "Yeah. Yeah, it is," he said, his voice steady with conviction.

"Then that's all that matters," Charlie replied. Deadpool stepped forward, adding his own perspective with a playful slap on Felix's back. "Here's how I see it," he said, grinning. "Life's like… a messed-up comic sometimes. You gotta roll with it, take action, and maybe flip a page or two. As for your family, eh, maybe don't think so hard about it. Just live."

Deadpool paused, tapping his chin. "Although… maybe don't take me as an example. Or anything I say, really."

Felix looked at the bizarre figure in red, a strange feeling settling over him. Despite Deadpool's manic energy, he could see a strange wisdom in his words. What did it matter if his path had been arranged or stumbled upon? Every criminal he stopped, every life he saved—it was all real. "He" had been the one to step up, to make the call, and to see it through.

Maybe that's what being a hero really was, he thought. Just doing what mattered, regardless of where you started.

As Felix was processing all this, Deadpool had already strolled over to the broken window. "Gotta admit, it was a blast working with you guys," he called over his shoulder with a wave. "Oh, and remember—a new sword would be nice next time we meet!"

With a gleeful salute, he launched himself through the window.

Felix ran over, peering outside, but there was no trace of him. He stared at the empty street below, his mind still turning over everything that had happened, trying to make sense of it all.

The voice of the Shadow cut in from somewhere nearby. "Bet we'll be dreaming of a red-suited freak for at least a month."

Felix sighed, but a faint smile crept onto his face. "Yeah, you're probably right."

---

Meanwhile, high above, the Steel Bat armor streaked back to the Watchtower, leaving a trail of propulsion behind as it sped toward its docking bay. As it neared, the armor reconfigured itself mid-flight, shifting smoothly back into its compact flight-capsule form. With a slight hum, it glided into the storage bay, guided by a robotic arm that pulled it precisely into place.

"Looks like you're pleased with the armor's performance, sir," Friday remarked with a hint of amusement.

Charlie leaned back, still caught in the afterglow of the fight. "More than I expected," he admitted, a satisfied grin creeping across his face. The first-person combat design was astonishing. The fluidity, the responsiveness—it was like nothing else he'd ever experienced. Stark had outdone himself with this system. If it were a game, he thought, it'd be the most immersive, perfectly controlled simulation he could imagine.

And the best part? No physical fatigue. While traditional gaming left him exhausted, here he could fight on, the suit's arc reactor supplying endless energy. As long as it was charged, he was unstoppable. "I could do this all day," he muttered, half to himself.

Friday's tone grew mischievous. "Speaking of all day, sir, I should remind you that the semester's about to end. Finals are coming up, in case that slipped your mind."

Charlie blinked in surprise, momentarily thrown off balance. "Wait… we're that close to finals?"

"Friday, sir," Friday quipped, her tone light. "Just like me."

"Right, thanks for the heads-up," he replied, shaking his head at how completely he'd lost track of time. Lately, with everything he had going on, school felt almost secondary.

"Speaking of projects," he said, shifting topics, "how's the progress on Alpha-D?"

"We're in the testing phase," Friday confirmed, bringing up a live feed of the Watchtower lab where Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy were working side by side, bent over a cluster of circuits and microprocessors.

"Gwen, I think that's your error," Peter was saying, his tone somewhere between patient and exasperated.

Gwen raised an eyebrow. "Last I checked, I was valedictorian."

"That's only in your dimension," Peter retorted, giving her a sideways grin. "In mine, I'm the top student."

"Oh, sure, totally," Gwen replied, playfully rolling her eyes, but the two of them continued working, bantering as they went.

Charlie watched them work, feeling a certain pride in their progress. The project was nearing completion, and the display on his screen showed the progress bar creeping toward 100%. They were creating a cutting-edge drone, its gleaming white shell and compact design hiding a formidable array of capabilities.

Friday continued, "The design's nearly finalized. We should be ready to start production soon."

"Good," Charlie replied, rubbing his hands together. "Once we're ready, I want a citywide test. Let's see if this tech can cover the ground it's built for."