Superior Reed Richards

After the excitement and tension of recent events, the air in our hideout was filled with a well-deserved sense of calm. Ben, with a heavy sigh of satisfaction, sank into the couch as if his stone body had finally found a moment of peace.

"Finally, we can relax," he said softly, his voice tired.

As I continued preparing dinner, I didn't miss the chance to tease my friend. "Are you saying you didn't enjoy it?" My knives, guided by the power of magnetism, deftly sliced the vegetables, creating a dance of floating slices in the air.

Ben, with a slight smirk, replied without lifting his eyes from the ceiling, "I can't say that. Feeling what Neil Armstrong felt was incredibly satisfying."

I smiled back, relishing the thought. Indeed, our recent expedition to the Moon was something special, adding sentimental depth to our already rich experience of traveling through space and other dimensions.

"Hard to argue with that," I noted, continuing my culinary magic. "But the Moon does have its own unique atmosphere."

Sue, my faithful companion in these adventures, was engrossed in preparing the main course. She skillfully worked with the meat, each of her movements full of mastery and grace. Her smile, recalling our little date on the Moon, lit up the room warmer than any sunlight.

"And the views there are breathtaking," she said with enthusiasm, as if each word transported us back to that mysterious surface.

"Now I understand why it was so hard for Johnny to impress Crystal," I added with a grin, remembering how our friend complained that his efforts didn't have the desired effect on Crystal.

Sue laughed, and her laughter filled the kitchen, adding warmth to the sound of meat sizzling in the pan.

"Aren't you inviting Alicia for dinner?" I asked, placing the last chopped vegetable down. My knives, slightly trembling after their culinary efforts, returned to their places.

My friend, whose attention was riveted to the screen where an NBA game was unfolding, slowly shook his head, his eyes reflecting a mix of disappointment and understanding.

"She wanted to visit her father today," he said, as if each word carried the weight of untold stories, a bridge between past and present.

Sue, standing nearby and curiously observing our dialogue, suddenly pondered, "Hmm, I should visit my father soon too." Her words filled the room with a sense of warmth and homeliness. Her presence here, among the pots and pans, seemed important yet weightless, as if she was looking for an excuse to stay close.

"Will you go with me?" Her invitation sounded like a call for a shared adventure, simple yet significant.

"Why not," I replied, sensing the possibilities and promises hanging in the air. "I can discuss a project with him."

Her intrigued look made my thoughts return to our recent journey and touch upon ideas born in the boundless space.

"I've been thinking about launching something for civilians," I said, the words flowing easily, carrying a vision of the future. "Our flight gave me an interesting idea in this direction."

"Care to elaborate?" Her question was filled with anticipation, and feeling the approach of a revelation, I shared my plan.

"I'm thinking about introducing a solution to break the monopoly of companies that provide internet access," my words left a promise of change in the air, ideas capable of transforming the world.

Sue, understanding the essence of my words, smiled so brightly that her eyes sparkled with anticipation.

In our cozy space, where the aromas of dinner began to blend with the warm evening light, my thoughts turned to an ambitious project. I intended to create an advanced version of StarLink, a concept that, in the long term, could significantly transform humanity. Considering the costs, I concluded that the investments would not be as substantial compared to the potential benefits.

ZZZT

An unexpected notification shattered the calm. Thanks to my recently honed ability to analyze electromagnetic vibrations, I immediately grasped the essence of the warning without resorting to my AI. The information was so urgent it required immediate attention.

"Ben, turn on the news," I said, feeling the seriousness of the moment infuse my words with weight.

Ben, sensing the urgency in my voice, complied without question. He turned on the TV, and the screen came to life instantly, reflecting the dynamic of breaking news.

"There's a battle between two heavily armored individuals on Stark Industries grounds!" exclaimed the news anchor, her voice filled with anxiety and excitement.

The camera switched to the scene, where two metallic figures, clad in massive armor suits, clashed in a fierce fight. Sparks and the clang of metal filled the air, showcasing the power and destructive force of each blow.

On the screen, amidst explosions and flashing sparks, Tony Stark and his opponent Stane were locked in combat, reminiscent of ancient titan clashes.

"Aren't we going to intervene?" Ben's voice sounded hesitant, reflecting his doubts and desire to join the fight. His instincts as a fighter reacted keenly to every action on the screen.

I responded slowly, weighing the information provided by J.A.R.V.I.S. Despite its advancement, the AI was far from perfect, and I used this to get a full picture of the situation.

"There's no point," I finally declared, overwhelmed by the speed of events and the depth of my analysis. We watched as the cameras lost sight of Stark and Stane, and now the scene unfolding was hidden from public view.

The battle we were witnessing was not just a clash of technologies; it was a test of philosophies and military strategies. Stark, with his iconic repulsors emitting light and energy, and Stane, whose grotesque armor bristled with rocket launchers and machine gun turrets, each had their unique brand of primal strength.

I understood that Stane's weapons, although engineered with genius, did not match Stark's level of design harmony and innovation. The climax of the battle arrived when Tony Stark, seizing the moment, pierced Stane's armor, reaching the thermonuclear reactor created by his father, Howard Stark.

"The battle is already over," I said, observing the final moments of the fight, which ended as swiftly as it had begun.

The next moment, we saw a beam of energy piercing the sky. Stane's armor, along with Stane himself, was reduced to mere particles. Stark, exhausted, collapsed to the ground. As frantic footsteps were heard, I ended the broadcast.

—\\—

In the morning light streaming through our kitchen window, the world seemed peaceful despite the turmoil beyond its borders. The television, tuned to the neutral tone of the news, provided a backdrop to our morning activities, filling the space with the sounds of the wider world as we went about our small routines.

"... Last night was particularly eventful for an already restless city," the news anchor's voice echoed from the speakers, a reminder that the calm of our morning was but an illusion.

At that moment, catching movement in my peripheral vision, I noticed Ben carefully adjusting his outfit in the mirror. He meticulously prepared for his date with Alicia, his well-chosen attire reflecting hope and the nervous anticipation of the upcoming rendezvous.

"Good luck, Ben," I said, watching him get ready to leave.

He smiled in response, nodded at me, and his gaze, full of gratitude and determination, spoke volumes.

Meanwhile, Sue, always energetic and full of ideas, was in the shower, leaving me alone with my blueprints and projects. On the table before me lay the plans for the satellites I was working on. These documents were not merely papers; they were the map to my dream, the tools for realizing a vision that could change the face of modern technology.

Every line and symbol on the blueprints embodied my hopes and scientific curiosity, pulsing with the potential for future discoveries. These satellites were to become part of a network that would surpass current communication capabilities, offering the world new horizons of opportunity.

Some Time Later

We sat in the quiet, comfortably furnished office of Franklin Storm, surrounded by books and artifacts, each capable of telling its story of scientific discovery and adventure. Soft light fell through the wide windows, creating an atmosphere of scholarly reflection, perfectly suited for discussing my ambitious project — WebLink.

"Hmm, quite an interesting idea," Franklin Storm said slowly, his eyes narrowing with interest as he contemplated the scope of my proposal. His voice carried a tone of respect and considerable curiosity.

At this point in our conversation, we were delving into my plan, which I hoped would solve the issue of internet access across the entire planet. This was more than a technical enhancement — it was a revolution in communication.

"But are you sure all countries will agree to such an idea?" Franklin asked, raising an important question about international politics and diplomacy.

"There will definitely be some issues with certain countries," I admitted, thinking of Wakanda and Latveria, whose technological and political constraints could be stumbling blocks. "However, most will likely agree to the terms I propose."

Sue's father stared at me for a few moments, considering the implications of my proposal, then slowly nodded, his gaze becoming more resolute.

"I'm pleased to see you thinking about such things. I'll be happy to offer my support," his words felt like a blessing, and I felt a surge of relief and enthusiasm. It was exactly what I needed to hear.

"In that case, expect to see the preliminary blueprints of my satellites soon," I said confidently, already imagining the beginning of a new chapter in the history of global communication.

"I look forward to it," Franklin said. "But tell me, where is Johnny?"

I exchanged a glance with Sue and merely nodded. To Johnny and Sue's father, we could reveal our discoveries. Our looks didn't go unnoticed, and Franklin Storm watched us with interested eyes.

"It's a long story..."

Some Time Later

In the office, besides me, Sue, and Franklin, were numerous photos and records from the Moon.

"... And now Johnny is on a date with his girlfriend, who happens to be a princess of their people," I finished, feeling that every word added to the understanding of the situation.

Sue, closely following the conversation, added important details, enriching the narrative and helping to create a complete picture of what was happening. Her presence and support were invaluable in this dialogue.

Franklin Storm, an old friend and mentor, listened to us with focused seriousness. His reaction was restrained, which was not surprising given his experience and familiarity with many key figures on the world stage, including the King of Atlantis and his fairly close acquaintance with the Skrulls.

"They are unlikely to establish diplomatic relations with us," I preempted his thoughts, noticing the budding question in his eyes. "Blackagar Boltagon said that although he strives for diplomacy, certain events currently make it impossible."

Franklin, always deeply immersed in thoughts about politics and international relations, nodded in understanding. His gaze, full of deep knowledge of the world and its intricacies, reflected an awareness of the challenges and obstacles we were discussing.

We continued our discussion, moving from political dilemmas to the technical aspects of my upcoming projects. The atmosphere in the room was filled not only with the light from the windows but also with the illumination of our ideas and proposals, aiming for change and progress. Our conversation, being more than just an exchange of opinions, turned into strategic planning for the future, where every opinion and every idea could be decisive in a world where science and magic, politics and personal relationships intertwine in an intricate pattern of destinies.

Baxter Building

After returning from Baxter Building, our home welcomed us with the cozy bustle typical of a place where old friends gather. The porch was illuminated by the soft glow of lamps, where our company was already assembled, and the scent of dinner wafted through the open windows. Ben, always reliable and steadfast, sat on the steps, engrossed in conversation with Johnny, who seemed to have just returned with Crystal.

"And this is...?" I exclaimed, noticing the massive dog at Crystal and Johnny's feet. The mysterious and imposing creature looked at me peacefully with its deep eyes.

It was Lockjaw—not just a dog, but one of Blackagar's most loyal friends, majestic and enigmatic. His presence in our home was as significant as any of the guests, for Lockjaw was no ordinary dog.

I remembered he had teleportation abilities. Judging by his expression, he had some grievances with me.

Crystal, catching my interest in Lockjaw, smiled and stroked his fur. "This is Lockjaw," she introduced. "He's not only a loyal friend but also a reliable protector."

Johnny, seemingly impressed by Lockjaw's abilities, added, "Yeah, his teleportation is quite handy, although we couldn't manage to get straight into the Baxter Building."

"That's probably because of me," I said with an awkward smile. "I apologize for the inconvenience."

Crystal smiled understandingly.

Some Time Later

"Hmm..." my gaze was fixed on one of the many prototypes of the future WebLinks.

I was particularly pondering the costs of maintenance and production for such devices.

"Chronos, remove prototypes 1 through 8," I said after a few minutes.

"Done," my assistant stated, disassembling the specified devices.

This left only three versions before my eyes.

"Dr. Richards, you have received a message from Tony Stark," said Chronos.

"Keep the remaining prototypes in development status," I said before opening the email, which contained an invitation for the entire Fantastic Four.

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