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In the United States, more than 80% of high school students harbor heroic dreams.
Peter Parker was no exception.
After two days of showing strength and attracting attention since awakening his powers, Parker—normally introverted and reserved—felt a different hue to life altogether. He tasted what it meant to matter, and that sensation was addictive.
With anxious anticipation buzzing through the group, the bus pulled up to the virtual reality research base on the outskirts of New York City.
Stark Industries had spearheaded construction, using one of their elite offshoot teams. Despite being less than two months old, the facility had already taken on the air of a full-fledged corporate tech campus. Vast buildings with sleek, industrial architecture gave the compound a sense of quiet dominance.
"Parker, there's a lot of people," Ned whispered excitedly.
More than a dozen other school buses were already parked. The internship was a pilot program for the most outstanding high schoolers across New York. And among the talented teens milling about were camera-ready, poised young women and sharply dressed boys—future elites being drawn to this new flame.
"Parker." Harry Osborn joined them. "This place might look new, but its backing is no joke. It's a subsidiary of Stark Industries, but the real intrigue is its chairman. They say he's from a covert organization that even the richest circles are still trying to decipher."
"Whoa—"
The collective reaction wasn't just Parker's. Whispers of awe passed through the group.
The world was shifting. And it was the sharpest of the youth who were most attuned to those tectonic changes.
Before Harry could finish his next sentence, a blue-and-white robotic form descended from the sky. Its sleek design recalled Iron Man's armor, but the segmented limbs and motion patterns revealed it to be a drone—not a suit.
"All right, kids! Gather and form rows," the robot announced—using none other than Tony Stark's signature voice.
Shrieks of excitement followed instantly.
"Keep it down! I'm in the middle of tuning headphones in the lab," Tony quipped. "Hey, the girl who just said she'd marry me—score top marks in this internship, and I'll buy you dinner. Actually, that offer goes for the rest of you girls too..."
His trademark charisma set the whole field alight with laughter and cheers.
Tony Stark had long since become more than a celebrity—he was aspiration incarnate. And when he joked, they didn't just laugh. They believed.
Watching from his private office, Shen He felt a quiet regret about letting Stark handle the orientation.
"Get the Guardians ready," Shen He said to Coulson, watching the feed. "Being a hero is a lot like being a celebrity these days. But it's not just about flair—it's about timing. Steve's great with that balance. Let Skye and the others warm up. Let's add some energy."
Originally, Shen He hadn't intended to appear in front of the interns. But Parker was there. And Peter Parker stirred something very personal in him.
When a regular person gains power—does it lead to pleasure, or to duty?
Parker embodied that tension. Still raw and unpolished, he wasn't yet a paragon like Steve Rogers. He didn't carry unwavering conviction or absolute clarity. He was flawed, caught between adolescence and greatness. Yet, he genuinely enjoyed helping others.
He did things other heroes wouldn't think of. Helping an old lady across the street? That was Peter's style.
Peter had no idea someone was already watching him closely.
Now, following the staff and robotic guides, the students entered the heart of the campus. After Stark delivered his usual bombastic welcome, he handed off command to a humanoid AI named J.A.R.V.I.S., who was currently piloting one of the humanoid chassis.
"You'll receive internship IDs and be assigned to logistics teams," Jarvis said in an even voice. "Since the Guardians primarily operate at night, your shifts will align with their schedule—from midnight to six a.m., in rotation. Departments include technical operations and public relations…"
The departments' proximity to Guardian training facilities meant interns would often spot them during their duties. Though photography was prohibited, just being near the Guardians had many students buzzing with excitement. A number had clearly signed up for that alone.
Jarvis led them to collect ID badges, outlining rules, safety protocols, and restricted zones. Then came the surprise—a tour of the Guardian training grounds.
It resembled a futuristic arena. Inside, the four Guardian members were deep in a training session.
Or rather, three Guardians were in full-speed combat with Steve Rogers.
Unmasked and dressed in standard tight uniforms, Skye, Wanda, and Pirot clashed fiercely with the legendary Captain America.
It looked like a battle straight from a high-budget sci-fi blockbuster. Flashes of energy. Bodies flipping. Blows landing with seismic grace. Were it not for prior warnings about silence, the crowd might have roared loud enough to shatter glass.
"Focus!" Steve barked as Wanda's hex energy was repelled by his vibranium shield.
Captain America—the battlefield commander. Even in sparring, his military rigor remained. He knew that sloppiness in training translated to death in real engagements.
Despite the 3-on-1, Steve won decisively.
Skye had been asked to suppress her quake powers. Wanda wasn't using telepathy. Only Pirot's precision really threatened him—and even that wasn't enough.
The students clapped.
"Pretty cool, right?"
A soft male voice carried over them all—without amplification, yet clearly audible.
They turned. A tall figure in a dark cloak stood at the edge of the platform. But their attention swiftly moved to the woman beside him.
She wore a hood. And her beauty silenced the crowd.
Joan of Arc.
Though veiled in the simplest attire, her sheer presence captured every gaze. It wasn't just physical perfection—it was spiritual magnetism. A purity that evoked ancient legends.
"Recovered." Shen He clapped once, half-teasingly. "I should've expected this."
Dressing a Heroic Spirit in stark black? Of course attention would fall on her face. The aesthetic hit too hard, especially for high school kids unaccustomed to magic-born beauty.
"Good afternoon. I'm the chairman of this company," Shen He said, raising his voice slightly. "The woman beside me is my wife."
Blush crept across Jeanne's cheeks. She instinctively shifted behind him to avoid more stares.
Crack—
Several hearts snapped.
Still, these were high-caliber students. Soon, their awe turned to curiosity. Shen He looked no older than twenty-five. Could he really be the head of a multinational enterprise?
"I see the disbelief," he said casually. "We come from an ancient group called Chaldea. Everyone within it possesses unique talents. We've been hidden in the shadows of history. Want to guess how long I've lived?"
The students looked around, half-smiling, half-serious.
"Over a hundred years?" someone offered.
"More than a thousand!" another chimed.
"Impossible—"
"Not really," one sharp student replied. "Asgardians like Thor exist. The Thunder God's legend spans over a millennium. Extraordinary beings clearly existed centuries ago."
"There's not enough data to estimate," someone else muttered.
Shen He chuckled. Now he understood why Stark enjoyed chatting with the youth.
"Actually…" He smiled. "I'm twenty-five."
Huuuu— The crowd booed.
"Kidding." He grinned. "I'm not much older than you. So don't be stiff. The world is changing. People with powers are emerging rapidly. That's why we decided to step into the light."
Peter Parker clenched his fists. His palms were sweaty.
"Does that mean we can gain powers too?" a student called out.
"Yes," Shen He answered plainly. "But it takes opportunity and consequence. Captain America was born of dangerous science. Scarlet Witch, Skye, Quicksilver—all had unique origins. And Hulk? You know that story. But ask yourselves: are you here because of who they are, or what they can do?"
The question stunned the group.
"I'm here because powers are cool," someone finally admitted. "Like shockwaves. Or running faster than a jet."
"Also, the girls are gorgeous—"
"Captain America's body is…"
Shen He simply smiled and walked over to a massive steel training column.
Clang!
One punch.
No theatrics. No showboating. Just raw force. Air compressed and exploded into vapor. A shockwave rippled outward. Some students stumbled, a few fell, and the reinforced steel now bore a clean, crater-like fist mark. Even the ground beneath it shifted.
They'd never seen power like that up close.
"Do you feel it?" Shen He's smile didn't waver. "Do you still think power is 'cool'? I imagine most of you felt fear."
The crowd froze.
"Why? Because you don't know me. Like seeing a stranger with a gun. But if the person holding the weapon was Captain America, you'd relax. That's the truth, isn't it? What you seek—what comforts you—isn't just ability. It's heroism."
He paused.
Parker felt it in his chest.
Shen He's finger pointed directly at him. "You. What's your take?"
Peter stood nervously. "Um... I think you're saying that powers alone aren't impressive. What's cool... is how Guardians use them to help people."
"Well said." Shen He's eyes softened.
"Why did my punch frighten you?" he asked the group. "Because you didn't understand me. But a hero... a hero is someone you trust to carry power."
Steve Rogers, Skye, Wanda, and Pirot moved to his side.
"No one can predict when disaster will strike. Accidents. Crimes. Natural forces. But when you see someone pull another from a burning car, or stand between chaos and the innocent, you think—'Maybe someone would do that for me.' That's the root of hope. That's what a hero embodies."
"The greater the hero, the deeper that hope runs."
"This is why I created the Guardians. Not to be powerful—but to bear it."
Silence fell—followed by thunderous applause. This time, it wasn't for flash. It was for understanding.
Parker clapped too, his heart pounding.
"If any of you want Captain America's autograph, now's your chance," Shen He added playfully. "Training begins soon. I hope the next ten days show you something... different."
He turned, took Jeanne's hand, and began to leave—his eyes resting on Parker one last time.
He said nothing.
But he was waiting.
Waiting for Parker to discover it for himself.
Waiting for the moment when power becomes purpose.
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