I watched Richard and Jessica go off to disseminate final hugs and handshakes, while the mostly-armored Stark, his helm still off, watched them curiously.

“Did they just hint that you’ve got Nova powers, and you’re a Goddess of the Stars now, too?” he asked me.

“You’re not going to tell anyone because the Hag will get pissed at you, but The Bear and her found a way to make something similar to a Nova Core, Mr. Ironsides.”

“Wait... that means that anyone could get a functioning Core?” He pointed his thumb at himself meaningfully.

“A Nova Core is not a true Core. It has no inbuilt psionic capability, and it can’t make you a Psion. It can power Core Disciplines because it’s cosmic energy, and can sub for psionic energy that way. But... you’d be a little sun and be able to power your armor by yourself, just like the Nova Corps does.

“It’s a higher-order energy, too. You could do a lot with it.”

“But?”

“What are the odds you’ll be cleared for one?”

He’d walked away from his dad’s name to establish his own in the States, leaving a potentially incredible career in the Tribes behind. His eyes shadowed as he thought about that. “Not very good...”

“So, I imagine you’ll promptly try to invent something that will piggyback on the effect and do it mechanically instead of biologically.”

“Uhhh...” Well, duh, Stark, it’s you. Goddess of Following the Obvious Train of Thought, too...

“Which I imagine they won’t mind, as long as you promptly share it with them. Cosmic-powered armor not subject to EMP’s would be quite the coup.”

“It would really help if I could take a really close look at their armor...” he murmured.

“You’d have to clear that with Queen Aurora, and probably share your results with the Worldmind. I imagine they’d be a bit leery if just anyone could tap into and use the Nova Force...”

He winced. “I really don’t want to have to join their little army of space cops to learn that stuff...”

“Huh. They’d probably love to have you. A thousand generations and more of the highest level of technology in the galaxy to explore and refine. I don’t even want to think where you would be tech-wise in five years.” I did glance at him. “Most of them don’t truly understand their own tech anymore, naturally enough. Their Worldmind does it for them. Someone who actually understands it all would be incredibly precious to them. For all that their technology is incredibly advanced... it hasn’t really improved for a very long time.

“Men of your caliber and intellect are as rare to the Xandarans as they are on Earth. Maybe rarer. You’ve got competition back home, after all.

“I’m just thinking of an Iron Man overfit on a Nova Corps uniform for a Centurion Supreme. Good gods...”

“Wouldn’t that be an argument for getting me a Core back home?” he reasoned quickly.

“You don’t really think the Hag and the Bear need you to make power armor, do you?”

“Oh, right...”

“My friends, we are about to return home!” Thor’s voice boomed out. “Fare thee well, heroes of Xandar!” he called out, and got a big rousing cheer from the crowd. The gods and their boisterous celebrations had naturally been big draws to the normally disciplined and rather stodgy Xandarans, and their ability to carouse was definitely the talk of the arcologies.

Then Mjolnir was spinning, mystic energies were gathering, and a Portal back to Terra was open, no need for a Rainbow Bridge when going back to a place he was familiar with.

=============

New York City...

We came out in the back lot of the seaward side of the Temple to the Aesir. Ursula was naturally waiting to greet the Aesir, along with a few dozen disciples, as well as honorable invitations to Hercules for stopping over, and extended a formal invitation to him that he took with great interest.

He wanted to attend a feast in Valhalla? Well, now he had a formal invitation to do so, as a god who had fought alongside Odin’s son, not as a representative of Olympus.

He glanced at me, and I looked away and whistled innocently. Laughing quietly, he went over to where Thor and his comrades were greeting their disciples, listening to what had transpired in the days they’d been away, and otherwise attending to matters before returning to Asgard.

The rest of us naturally had to find our own ways home.

I deployed my Hexars, and Ben Grimm and the X-Crew who’d returned, along with MJ, piled aboard. The Spiders promptly went webslinging away for their homes, while I rose into the air and headed to the Baxter Building with Scott, Bobbie, Hank, MJ, and Cerise, with the Fixer and the Beetle eventually taking flight on their own and heading back to Grimm Materials after shaking hands with Ben.

Peggy greeted her husband the Patriot with a hug and peck on his cheek, scooting up behind him on his hoverbike as the SHIELD agents all hooted at the pair of them. The two Shielders took off for home together, Peggy leaning contentedly on her man’s shoulder. The SHIELD people piled into the transports waiting for them, excited about being back home and being able to share so many stories... and also urgently hoping the same opportunity would happen again.

Kismet gave everyone hugs to go, Ebersol and Jenkins very careful on where they put their hands and faces, and then simply shot off for the skies. I wasn’t sure she was going suborbital for the Coast or back to the Moon, but our Marklink went quiet as she closed it down.

------

The Baxter Building wasn’t far away and easily visible, since it currently had four great big playing Cards floating in illusionary manner on the four sides of it, Aces of each suit. The force field they were emanating wasn’t nearly as visible, but those who’d bothered to test it had found it also covered subterranean and dimensional access, much to their disgruntled surprise.

Also, there was a big guy out front, playing cards in a shadowy dome just outside the field. He’d been paid ten thousand dollars a day while we were gone to sit there and make sure nobody got in while the kids were at school.

Well, two big guys. Dragon Man, the monster-like Android Animated by Alchemy, was playing cards with him?

“Ho, look who’s back,” Mr. Hill said, throwing down a deuce, the steel card clinking as it hit the discard pile.

The big draconic fellow shook with glee, grabbing the duece with oddly delicate big claws and promptly laying down three sixes and three deuces before discarding with a fiery flourish.

“Huh,” Mr. Hill said without emotion. “I guess that’s gin, then.” He reached into the bag on the ground beside him and pulled out a bottle of Dealer’s Best, handing it over to the eager Dragon Man.

“Hur hur!” Dragon Man laughed, popping the cap and glugging down a mouthful of the brew, Mr. Hill carefully catching the bottle cap and tossing it into his mouth. Dragon Man saw the motion of everyone landing at the corner of his eye and turned around.

Spotting Ben Grimm, his relatively small eyes widened and he clutched his brew, rapidly scuttling around behind Mr. Hill.

I noted the Mark on his shoulder as everyone stared. I naturally knew what had gone on here, but didn’t have to tell anyone else that.

“Hey, Grimm,” Mr. Hill announced, collecting his deck of metal cards. “We all done here?”

“Sure, Hill,” Ben replied, getting off his Disk and ambling over. Hill tossed him a bottle of brew, which he popped gratefully, sucking on the cap. He glanced at the Dragon Man neutrally, lifting his bottle and giving it a chug as Mr. Hill did the same.

The Mountain stepped aside and extended his bottle. Ben extended his own to tink it, and Dragon Man hesitantly did the same. They all drank together.

“Didn’t know you had good taste in beers,” Ben mentioned to Dragon Man, whose tail twitched and face contorted in a semblance of a smile. “How’d you pick him up?” he asked Hill.

=========

A few days prior...

It was getting close to noon, so his shift was half-over. The Mountain shuffled his special cards with something close to dexterity – living with the best card dealer in the world was one way to get good at that – and hummed as he set down the cards (well, more like carved plates) down in a new game of solitaire.

The lot was mostly empty, so the van pulling in was pretty obvious. He sort of glanced up as he finished placing the plates, and studied them for his first move.

When the colorful bozos piled out of the van, including the big purple guy with the beak, oversized head, and draconic wings and tail, he paid a little more attention.

They came walking up pretty confidently as he sat there, looking like they wanted to run right into the building and do whatever they wanted to it. As they came closer, he tapped his deck, turned over the first card, eyed the play, and stood up.

Despite themselves, they all slowed down when he did that, because the air trembled and the ground quivered underneath them.

His granite-hued eyes flitted across them emotionlessly, settling on the man in purple and red in the lead. “Wittman,” he said flatly, crossing his arms, clearly unimpressed. “I know you don’t have business here, because the only ones who do are the ones who live here right now.”

“It’s Vizard, Hill! I legally changed it!” the man exclaimed, pointing at him and shaking his finger.

“Wittman, I’ve known you for twenty years, and I’m not calling you Vizard because of your driver’s license,” Hill replied coolly. His eyes moved slowly sideways. “Petruski.”

The Trapster, who was starting to raise his glue gun, froze in place as that voice made the air get very heavy suddenly.

“Don’t say a word. Turn around, walk back there, and get back in that van. If you do anything else, I’m going to turn you inta a smear on the pavement by looking at you too hard.

“GIT.”

The Trapster swallowed, lowered his glue gun, and very quickly turned around and headed back the way he’d come.

The Vizard’s lips thinned when he saw that. He didn’t say anything, however.

Hill glanced at Hydro-man, whose body was half-flowing into water, wavering uncertainly as he looked at the Mountain. “Bench. The field behind me is impermeable ta water. You can’t get through. Knock yourself out.”

“We want to test the strength of this barrier for ourselves,” the Vizard sniffed, seizing the conversation opening. “Based on cards, how strong can it-“

The Mountain’s fist snapped back faster than the remaining four people could possibly react.

“Waaagh!” The BOOM of the impact blew all the human-sized members of the group away before they could respond, and they all went flying. Hydroman blew into droplets, the Vizard was airborne, and the red-headed muscle-woman Thundra went tumbling. The shockwave caught Dragon Man’s wings, and he went skidding backward as well.

“Pretty damn strong,” Mr. Hill said as the foursome collected themselves, folding his arms again, his trenchcoat barely ruffled. “I know I can pound through it, given some time, ‘cause I was the one who tested it for her.

“You bunch of mooks haven’t got a prayer, and that’s not including the fact she comes ta check on it when something damages it.” He nodded at Dragon Man calmly, as the creature tensed. “You might be able to get through it, kid, but it’ll take you hours, and she’ll show up, and then yer done.”