Jay flopped onto his hotel bed, exhausted in the best possible way. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Tokyo's neon skyline painted the night in electric blues and pinks. Past midnight now. Thirteen hours since he'd left the Yashida compound with their butler Shiro acting as his chauffeur in one of the family's understated Mercedes sedans.

  Thirteen hours of pure, unfiltered fun.

  The first stop had been DiverCity Tokyo Plaza. Seeing the life-sized Gundam statue was everything his inner mech-obsessed teenager could have wanted. The RX-78-2 stood eighteen meters tall in perfect 1:1 scale, white and blue armor gleaming in the morning sun. Jay spent nearly an hour walking around it, taking pictures from every angle while Shiro waited patiently nearby.

  "It's... really just a statue, Jay-san," Shiro said, adjusting his tie nervously while tourists streamed past them. His formal posture never wavered, but Jay caught the slight bewilderment in his voice.

  "It's not just a statue," Jay replied, running his hand along one of the massive feet reverently. "This is the RX-78-2 Gundam. Eighteen meters of pure engineering perfection. Do you know how many kids dreamed of piloting one of these?"

  Shiro blinked slowly. "Many... children, Jay-san?"

  "Exactly!" Jay grinned, pulling out his phone for another dozen photos. "And now some mad genius actually built one. Life-sized. Just because they could."

  'I really need to get Tony to build me one. Wonder what it'll take to convince him,' Jay thought.

  From there, they'd hit Akihabara. Electric town, the beating heart of otaku culture. The sensory overload hit Jay immediately: flashing neon signs advertising the latest anime series, electronic beeps and chirps of arcade games bleeding through storefront doors, crowds clutching shopping bags filled with figurines and manga. The air itself seemed to hum with electricity and excitement.

  Jay went overboard. Limited edition figurines, rare manga volumes, Blu-ray sets he'd been hunting for years. At one specialty shop, he found a first-edition Rei Ayanami figure that made his collector's heart sing.

  The look on Shiro's face when prices started climbing was priceless. His formal composure cracked as he frantically tried to convert yen to dollars.

  "Ano... Jay-san, he says this figure is... rokujū-man en?" Shiro's voice pitched higher with confusion, sweat beading on his forehead. "I believe that is... very expensive?"

  "Shiro-san," Jay said gently, switching to fluent Japanese mid-conversation with the excited shop owner, "I've got this. And yes, sixty thousand yen is worth it for a first-edition figure."

  The butler's jaw actually dropped. "You... speak Japanese? Fluently? When did you...?"

  "Among other languages," Jay replied in perfect Japanese.

  One month of intensive preparation using Sage's kinetic memory to absorb various languages. What would take years of study, he'd compressed into weeks of total immersion.

  The real entertainment came at the Maidreamin café for lunch. The moment they walked through the door, Jay was hit with a wall of pink décor, frilly uniforms, and the enthusiastic greeting of "Welcome home, Master!" delivered by three maids in perfect unison.

  "Shiro-san," Jay whispered as they were led to their table, "you look like you're about to have a stroke."

  "This is... not my usual dining establishment, Jay-san," Shiro replied stiffly, sitting rigidly like he was facing a firing squad.

  The maids absolutely lost their minds when Jay responded to their kawaii routine in perfect Japanese. When their server, a bubbly girl who couldn't have been older than twenty, started the traditional "kyun kyun" heart pose photo session, Jay jumped right in.

  "KYUN!" Jay called out, making exaggerated heart shapes with his hands while posing next to the delighted maid, who squealed with genuine delight.

  Shiro slumped progressively lower in his seat, his face burning crimson. "Jay-san... please..." he muttered desperately from behind his menu, his years of butler training barely saving him from complete mortification.

  And the food. Jay ate enough to feed a small army, much to the kitchen staff's amazement. His Heavy Eater Drawback meant he needed constant fuel, and watching the maids' expressions as plate after plate disappeared was comedy gold. By the time they left, Shiro looked like he needed a stiff drink and a long nap.

  But the real adventure started later that evening, on the way to Tokyo Tower for the evening finale.

  Jay's danger sense buzzed, then exploded into full alarm.

  He saw it in slow motion. A truck spinning through the air, tumbling end-over-end with devastating force. Metal shrieked. Below it, evening tourists stood frozen in that terrible moment when the brain registers death hurtling toward you, but the body hasn't caught up.

  Jay saw that a knockoff Iron Man suit fighting near Tokyo Tower's base had miscalculated a repulsor blast. The energy beam had caught a delivery truck at the worst possible angle, sending it airborne like a child's toy. An armored figure didn't even seem to notice, too focused on the team he was battling.

  Collateral damage. Acceptable losses. The kind of thinking that got people killed.

  Jay didn't think. He absorbed an adamantium bullet from his necklace, feeling the molecular absorption flood through his system like liquid metal coursing through his veins. His skin shifted, cells restructuring themselves into an unbreakable alloy as he planted himself between the flying death trap and the screaming civilians.

  The impact was catastrophic. The truck hit Jay like a freight train, the sound of metal meeting adamantium creating a thunderclap that shattered windows for blocks. His feet carved deep trenches in the asphalt as the kinetic force tried to drive him backwards, but his enhanced strength held firm.

  The twisted metal groaned and shrieked as Jay's grip compressed the truck's frame into scrap. Steam hissed from the ruptured engine block, and the smell of burnt oil filled the air. Behind him, he could hear the shocked gasps of people who'd been seconds away from death.

  That's when his enhanced senses picked up more.

  At Tokyo Tower's base, the armored figure was wreaking havoc against a team that made Jay's Comic Book Nerd Perk light up with recognition.

  Hiro Hamada, now clearly older and more battle-hardened, moved with practiced precision in his purple and gray armor. His helmet display flickered with targeting data as he coordinated with his team.

  "Go Go, flank left! Wasabi, cover her!" Hiro's voice crackled through external speakers.

  Go Go Tomago shot past on her mag-lev discs, her yellow armor a blur as she dodged energy blasts that left scorch marks on the pavement. "On it! This guy's tougher than the usual wannabe villains!"

  Wasabi's plasma blades hummed to life, their green energy casting eerie shadows as he moved with methodical precision. "Careful, everyone. His targeting system's more advanced than it looks."

  Honey Lemon bounced behind cover, her chemical purse already producing combinations with practiced efficiency. "Working on something special! Just keep him busy!"

  Fred, in his kaiju-inspired suit, was living his absolute best life despite the mortal danger. "Dudes! This is just like issue #47 of Robot Fighter Supreme! Except with actual death rays!"

  And floating above it all was Baymax, but something was fundamentally wrong. The healthcare companion's movements were too tactical, too strategic, coordinating the team like a military commander.

  The knockoff Iron Man was clearly outmatched skill-wise, but he had raw firepower. Each blast from his repulsors sent hairline fractures spreading up Tokyo Tower's support structure, the metal groaning ominously.

  "The tower!" Hiro shouted over the chaos. "If he brings it down—"

  "Half the district gets pancaked," Jay came to the same conclusion, his adamantium form shifting as he prepared to intervene. "Not happening on my watch."

  Jay's adamantium hand reshaped itself mid-motion, molecular structure flowing like liquid metal until it had become a blade, and then applying his latest power from silver samurai, a tachyon layer of silver light over his arm/blade. He closed the distance to the knockoff Iron Man in heartbeats.

  The pilot never saw death coming. One moment, he was lining up another devastating shot at Tokyo Tower's foundation, the next his arm cannon was gone. Severed so cleanly the metal edges gleamed like mirrors.

  "What the hell—" The pilot's panicked voice cut off as Jay's second strike took out the chest repulsors, leaving him in free fall.

  "Incoming package!" Honey Lemon called out, her chemical sphere already in flight with perfect timing.

  The gelatinous ball expanded on impact, completely engulfing the falling terrorist in what looked like translucent amber. He was trapped but breathing. Classic hero work with zero casualties.

  "Holy efficiency!" Fred whooped, his enthusiasm undimmed. "That was like watching a surgical strike! Who are you, mysterious metal dude? Are you like The Thing's cousin?"

  Jay shifted back to human form, the metallic sheen fading from his skin as Big Hero 6 regrouped around him. "Just a guy who doesn't like seeing landmarks get knocked down."

  Hiro removed his helmet, revealing features that had matured from the movie Jay remembered. Sharper cheekbones, more serious eyes, but still unmistakably the tech genius. "Thanks for the save."

  "No kidding," Go Go said, her mag-lev discs powering down as she touched ground. Her voice carried that same dry sarcasm, but aged with experience. "Tower comes down and with it three city blocks minimum."

  Fred bounced over in his monster suit, practically vibrating with excitement. "Dude, you just morphed your hand into a blade! That's so metal! Literally! Get it? Because—"

  "Fred," Wasabi sighed, his plasma blades retracting with a soft whir, "maybe save the puns until we're not standing next to structural damage?"

  That's when Fred's expression shifted behind his helmet's visor, recognition dawning. "Wait. You're that guy from the American news feeds. The Power Broker, right? Aren't you like a villain?"

  The mood shifted instantly. Go Go's hand drifted toward her disc controls. Wasabi's stance became defensive. Even Honey Lemon stepped back slightly, her chemical purse ready.

  "Villain is such a loaded term," Jay said nonchalantly, keeping his hands visible and non-threatening.

  Hiro's expression was conflicted, helmet tucked under one arm. "You just saved those civilians. And us. That doesn't exactly scream 'villain.'"

  "Hiro," the voice from Baymax said urgently, deeper and more human than it should be, "we should go. Now."

  But Hiro wasn't moving. He was staring at Jay with that particular intensity of someone who'd been backed into a corner for too long and suddenly saw a door.

  That's when Baymax approached, and Jay's enhanced hearing caught something that made it click into place.

  The voice coming from Baymax wasn't the gentle, healthcare-focused AI from the movie. It was deeper, more human, tinged with the kind of weariness that came from prolonged suffering.

  "Hiro," the voice said with obvious affection that made the younger Hamada's entire face transform, "we should retreat! He's a villain."

  Jay's memory supplied the context immediately.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  "Weren't you supposed to be dead?" Jay asked bluntly, looking directly at Baymax's inflated form.

  Hiro's expression shifted to pure panic. "I don't know what you're talking about. We should really get going—"

  "Kid," Jay interrupted gently, "if you want to keep a secret identity, maybe don't use a glass visor. Also, your brother just called you by name. In public. While fighting crime."

  The voice from Baymax, Tadashi's voice, let out a tired chuckle that carried years of pain and resignation. "He's got a point, little brother. We're about as subtle as a neon sign."

  Go Go snorted behind her helmet, crossing her arms. "I've been telling you that for months. Woman up and get a proper mask."

  "We could get you a proper mask," Fred offered helpfully. "I know a guy who knows a guy—"

  "Can we focus?" Wasabi interrupted, though his voice was gentle. "We're standing next to a crime scene, police sirens are getting closer, and you're really trying to explain yourself to a known villain."

  Tadashi's voice carried a weight that made the whole team go quiet. "The official story is that I was caught in the university fire but survived. The unofficial truth is that my body was... extensively damaged. I can't exactly walk around in public anymore."

  The mood shifted immediately, becoming heavy with shared grief. Jay could see it in their postures. The way Go Go's shoulders tensed, how Fred stopped bouncing and Wasabi's hands clenched into fists.

  "Hey," Jay said, his tone becoming genuinely warm, "what if I told you I might be able to fix that? All of it."

  The entire team went silent. Even the distant sounds of Tokyo traffic seemed to fade.

  Fred was the first to break it, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "Wait, you mean like... Just like the Castle family from Central Park?"

  "I've got a track record," Jay said simply. "People called me the Doctor for a reason. It's something I'm genuinely good at."

  Hiro's eyes were wide behind his visor, hope and disbelief warring across his features. "You... you're serious? You could really...?"

  "I can try," Jay said honestly.

  Tadashi's voice carried a note of desperate caution. "Hiro, we should be careful. We don't know his motive, and if something goes wrong—"

  "Nothing's going to go wrong, we need to take risks," Hiro interrupted fiercely, his voice cracking with emotion. "Tadashi, this could give you your life back. Your real life."

  The pain in his voice was raw, unfiltered. This was a kid who'd been carrying the weight of his brother's suffering for years.

  "Please," Hiro whispered, and the word carried everything. Hope, desperation, love, and faith that only existed between brothers.

  "Okay," Tadashi said softly through Baymax's speakers. "Okay, let's try."

  Despite continued protests about evacuation procedures filtering through his visor, Hiro had made his choice. The duo loaded onto Baymax, which was awkward, and flew to the Hamada residence.

  The house was a fascinating blend of old and new. Traditional Japanese architecture seamlessly integrated with modern technology. But Hiro led them straight to what had clearly been Tadashi's old room, now transformed into something that looked more like a medical facility than a bedroom.

  Banks of monitoring equipment lined the walls, their screens displaying vital signs and neural activity. Multiple computer workstations showed real-time diagnostics and remote control interfaces for Baymax's systems. Cables snaked everywhere, and the constant beeping of medical equipment filled the air.

  "Jesus," Jay breathed, taking in the setup that represented years of desperate improvisation. "How long have you been living like this?"

  "Three years, four months, sixteen days," Tadashi's voice answered with the kind of precision that spoke to counting every single one. "Not that I'm keeping track or anything."

  Despite everything, there was still humour there. Still, the Tadashi that Hiro remembered.

  Jay heard the full story now and piecing it together from the equipment and Hiro's haunted expression. The fire had been catastrophic. By the time emergency services arrived, Tadashi had been buried under rubble, his body broken and burned. They'd gotten him out alive, barely, but the damage was extensive.

  Sixty percent burns. Smoke inhalation destroyed his lungs. Crushed vertebrae. And injuries that left you wishing you'd died instead.

  Hiro had refused to let him go. Probably spent every waking moment since the fire building this setup, turning Baymax from a healthcare companion into a lifeline. Creating the neural interface that let Tadashi's mind pilot the robot while his body lay trapped in this medical tomb.

  Three years of watching his brother exist rather than live. Three years of guilt and desperation and hoping for a miracle that never came.

  Until now.

  Jay didn't need to see the extent of the injuries to understand. His healing aura was already showing him everything. Burns covering sixty percent of Tadashi's body, damaged organs, scarred lungs from smoke inhalation. Survivable, but barely.

  "This is going to take some time," Jay said, approaching the bed where Tadashi lay connected to a maze of tubes and wires. "Fair warning. It's going to feel really weird. Like your whole body being rebuilt from the inside out."

  The healing process pushed Jay to his limits for the second time that day.

  He had to rebuild Tadashi's respiratory system from scratch, regenerate nerve pathways severed by scar tissue, and restore organ function that had been compensated by machines for years.

  Jay poured everything he had into the healing, sweat beading on his forehead as his power worked overtime. He could feel Tadashi's body responding, damaged tissue sloughing away and being replaced by healthy cells. Lungs that hadn't drawn clean breath in years began to clear.

  His hands burned. His vision blurred at the edges. The exhaustion from healing Shingen earlier that day compounded with this new drain, and Jay could feel his reserves bottoming out. His enhancement gave him more stamina than most supers, but even that had limits.

  He pushed through anyway, because stopping halfway would be worse than not starting.

  By the time the rest of Big Hero 6 arrived, Tadashi was sitting up in bed under his own effort for the first time in over three years.

  "Holy shit," Go Go stopped mid-sentence as she pulled off her helmet, staring at Tadashi like she was seeing a ghost. "You're ... you look exactly like you used to."

  "Better, actually," Wasabi said quietly, his usually nervous demeanor replaced by genuine awe. "The scars are completely gone."

  Fred bounced into the room still wearing his monster suit, took one look at Tadashi standing and stretching, and promptly sat down hard on the floor. "Dude. This is actual magic. Medical magic."

  "It's not magic," Jay said tiredly, slumping against the wall. "Although I appreciate the compliment."

  Jay's hands were shaking. The room tilted slightly, and he had to brace himself against the doorframe to stay upright. Two major healings in one day, with a fight in between. Even his enhanced physiology screamed rest.

  That's when Aunt Cass arrived home.

  She walked into the room carrying groceries, probably expecting to see the same medical setup she'd lived with for years. Instead, she saw her nephew. Whole, healthy, standing on his own for the first time since the fire, laughing with his friends like nothing had ever happened.

  The grocery bags hit the floor with a crash, apples rolling everywhere.

  She didn't say anything at first. Just stood there, frozen, her brain trying to process what her eyes were showing her.

  Then her face crumpled. Her hands came up to cover her mouth as the first sob broke free, and she stumbled forward like her legs could barely hold her.

  "Tadashi?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

  "Hi, Aunt Cass," Tadashi said softly, and his voice cracked on the words.

  That broke the dam.

  She crossed the room and threw her arms around him, the sound escaping her something between a laugh and a wail. Her whole body shook as she clung to him, one hand cupping the back of his head like he was five years old again.

  "Oh god," she gasped, pulling back just enough to touch his face with trembling fingers. "You're real. You're okay."

  Her hands moved frantically. Touching his cheeks, his shoulders, his arms. Checking for burns that were no longer there, scars that had vanished. Years of forced composure shattered completely.

  She kissed his forehead, his cheeks, anywhere she could reach. The tears came harder.

  "Thank god," she whispered brokenly. "Thank god."

  Hiro was crying too, unashamed tears streaming down his face as he watched his family being put back together after years of being broken. "Aunt Cass, this is Jay. He... he gave me my brother back."

  Aunt Cass turned to Jay, and the look on her face was something he'd remember for the rest of his life. Pure gratitude mixed with disbelief, like she was staring at a saint or an angel or something equally impossible.

  She crossed to him and grabbed his hands in both of hers, squeezing so hard it almost hurt.

  "You brought him back," she whispered fiercely, gripping Jay's hands. "You gave me my boy back. How do I even thank someone for that? How do I—" Her voice broke again, and she pulled him into a hug that felt like it might crack his ribs.

  "Hey, I'm just glad I could help," Jay said gently, carefully extracting himself from the embrace while smiling despite his exhaustion.

  He reached into his jacket and pulled out a business card. "If you really want to be heroes, and I mean real, professional heroes, you're going to need better equipment than homemade suits."

  Hiro read the card aloud. "Stark Industries?"

  "Tell Tony I sent you," Jay said with a grin. "Prove you're worth the investment, and Tony will set you up with proper gear. Kid genius to kid genius. He'll appreciate your work."

  Back in the present as Jay settled into his hotel bed, the day's events played through his mind like highlights from the perfect vacation. But underneath the satisfaction was a question that had been nagging at him.

  Was it okay to have this much fun? To take time off from the larger conflicts and just... enjoy himself?

  Tomorrow would bring its own challenges. Jay had a bullet train to catch to Osaka, and a very specific shrine maiden to find.

  Tonight, he was just a guy who'd seen a giant robot statue, bought way too much anime merchandise, and helped a superhero team save Tokyo Tower.

  Life didn't get much better than that.

  The crisp autumn morning bit at Jay's cheeks as he stood on the platform at Tokyo Station, surrounded by the efficient chaos of Japan's busiest rail hub. Commuters in dark suits moved with practiced precision, their synchronized dance a stark contrast to the controlled mayhem of New York's Penn Station.

  "Jay-san, you're absolutely certain about this?" Shiro asked for the third time, adjusting his perfectly pressed collar. "The family jet would have you in Osaka in forty-five minutes. First class on the shinkansen is... adequate, I suppose, but—"

  "Shiro-san," Jay interrupted, switching to flawless Japanese that made several nearby salarymen do actual double-takes, "the whole point is to experience Japan properly. Besides, I've been dreaming about riding the bullet train for a while now."

  The older man's expression softened slightly. "Very well. But if you need anything—"

  "I'll call." Jay hefted his travel bag, declining Shiro's offer to have it sent ahead. Some things you had to carry yourself.

  The Hikari Super Express arrived exactly on schedule—of course it did—its sleek white nose cutting through the morning air like something that had escaped from a sci-fi movie. The world-renowned bullet train offered the highest rail speeds to match its peerless comfort, and since opening in 1964, the Shinkansen had become just as synonymous with Japan as Mount Fuji, sumo and sushi.

  Jay found his reserved seat in the Green Car and settled in for the journey, watching Tokyo's urban sprawl gradually give way to something more traditionally Japanese. About forty minutes out from Tokyo Station, Mount Fuji appeared in the distance, its perfect cone visible for several precious minutes before disappearing behind hills and clouds.

  Rice fields stretched out like a patchwork quilt, broken by small towns where red-roofed houses clustered around train stations. Then, industrial centers, their smokestacks reaching toward gray clouds, and finally the sprawling metropolitan area of Osaka rolling out like a sea of concrete and neon.

  Jay spent the three-and-a-half-hour journey reviewing what he knew about his target, which was a side quest of his in Japan. Tomoe Ishida, twenty-three, shrine maiden at Shintoji Temple.

  She has a dormant Inhuman gene that, when activated, would grant her technoforming abilities—the power to reshape and control technology through thought and will.

  In the issue he remembered from the comic book nerd perk, she'd eventually become the head of a Southeast Asian crime syndicate after her terrigenesis, recruited by the Ten Rings for her unique abilities. Jay had absolutely zero intention of letting that particular future come to pass.

  His hotel room in Osaka was efficient and modern, with a view of the city's famous castle. Jay secured his belongings—including the cursed Murasama blade—in the room's safe, then headed out into the afternoon sun.

  "God, I'd kill for a gamer's inventory system right about now," he muttered, shouldering his bag. Keeping track of gear across multiple cities would become a genuine logistical nightmare.

  Osaka Castle was magnificent in the afternoon light, its white walls and gold-accented rooflines standing proud against the modern skyline. Jay spent an hour genuinely appreciating the architecture and the museum exhibits about samurai culture. He was just enjoying being a tourist.

  The walk to Shintoji Temple took him through winding streets that seemed to exist in a different century. The shrine sat on a hillside overlooking the city, accessible by a path lined with traditional torii gates—the distinctive gates that marked the entrance to Shinto shrines. The autumn colors were spectacular, reds and golds that seemed to glow in the slanted sunlight.

  Near the temple's entrance, he spotted her.

  Tomoe was exactly as his comic book knowledge had shown him—early twenties, traditionally dressed in white and red shrine maiden robes, moving with practiced grace as she swept the temple steps. She had the kind of quiet competence that spoke of years of dedication to her duties.

  Jay made his approach casual, pretending to admire the intricate woodwork of the temple buildings while gradually working closer. When she bent to collect some fallen leaves, he timed his movement perfectly.

  "Excuse me," he said in polite, slightly formal Japanese, "could you tell me about the history of this temple?"

  As she straightened to answer, Jay deliberately brushed against her hand while gesturing toward the main building. The contact was brief, seemingly accidental—just another clumsy foreigner not quite understanding personal space.

  But it was enough.

  In that instant, Jay activated his power theft ability, channeling Sage's gene jumpstart power—which had evolved and upgraded itself to work beyond just X-genes and now functioned on Inhuman genetics as well. He reached out and triggered something deep within her DNA, causing her dormant Inhuman gene to spark to life for just a moment, long enough for him to steal the technoforming power that would have someday emerged. Then, just as quickly, he let that genetic trigger burn itself out completely.

  The entire process took less than a heartbeat. She felt nothing—no surge of energy, no hint of transformation. She would never know that she'd been saved from a future wrapped in terrigen mist and crystalline cocoons, never realize how close she'd come to abilities that would have eventually consumed her humanity entirely.

  Tomoe swayed slightly, her hand going to her forehead.

  "Are you alright?" Jay asked with perfectly genuine concern.

  "Yes, I... must have gotten lightheaded from bending down too quickly," she said, blinking slowly. "I'm sorry, what was your question about the temple?"

  Jay spent several more minutes in polite conversation about the shrine's history, learning about its founding in the Heian period and its role in protecting travelers. When he finally took his leave, bowing respectfully, Tomoe seemed completely back to normal.

  As he walked away, Jay could feel the new power settling into his consciousness like a missing puzzle piece clicking into place. . In a world increasingly dependent on digital infrastructure, it was arguably one of the most valuable abilities available and was a key power for his desired roster.

  He made it halfway down the temple steps before having to stop and lean against a stone railing, barely containing the urge to test his new ability right there. The cell phone tower visible in the distance was practically calling to him, begging to be reshaped and improved.

  'Not here,' he told himself firmly. 'Not until I'm somewhere private with proper testing space.'

  But damn, if it wasn't tempting.

  The sun was setting over Osaka, painting the castle and temple in shades of gold and crimson. Jay paused at a scenic overlook, pulling out his phone to capture the view. Tomorrow would bring new cities, new challenges, and new adventures.