Life with superheroes

Parents are the best teachers for their children.

When your child suggests saving someone and you have the ability to do so, what would you choose?

No matter what others might decide, Mike chooses to save.

"Stay in the car!" Mike whispered. Turning the bend ahead, he stopped the car and surveyed the scene not far away.

No, it wasn't an accident.

Mike's eyes narrowed, locking on a tall, strong man standing by the trunk of a car, seemingly inspecting something. As Mike focused on him, the man pulled out a metal box from the trunk and met Mike's gaze.

Cold, emotionless eyes. Loose hair half-covered his face, and a sleek metal arm reflected an eerie light under the streetlamp. He resembled a silent predator.

The Winter Soldier.

It was him.

Their eyes met, and a card appeared between Mike's fingers. As the Winter Soldier drew his gun, Mike's card vanished, and in a flash, he was in front of the man.

Mike swung his hand, pushing the gun aside.

Bang!

The gunshot shattered the car's rearview mirror.

Boom!

Mike's fist collided with the Winter Soldier, only to be blocked by the metal box he held.

The two froze for a moment. The Winter Soldier raised his gun again, but Mike swiftly grabbed it. The Winter Soldier countered with a whip kick. Mike fell backward but caught himself with his palms, one leg colliding with his opponent's. Using his arms, Mike flipped backward as the Winter Soldier grabbed for his ankles. Mike retaliated, his legs slicing upward toward the man's throat with a sharp wind.

Bang!

The metal box blocked the kick, and Mike landed on the ground.

"Did you learn this from Captain America?" Mike muttered to himself.

The Winter Soldier aimed his gun again, but Mike smirked. The gun's slide and barrel were missing.

Casually discarding the parts he'd taken, Mike summoned another card. In a flash of light, a Zanpakuto appeared in his hand.

The Winter Soldier's cold eyes narrowed as he threw the gun at Mike. Mike tilted his head to avoid it, but his focus shifted as a grenade hurtled toward his car.

Mike's eyes sharpened. Another card appeared in his hand as he lunged toward the car. Before he could use it, the grenade suddenly veered into the air.

Boom!

The explosion erupted above them. Mike glanced back and saw Eric, who gave a triumphant thumbs-up.

Mike's lips curved upward before he turned back to face the Winter Soldier. But the man was already on a motorcycle, roaring away. Mike's card glowed faintly before vanishing as he raised the Zanpakuto.

The Winter Soldier sped off, the engine's roar fading into the distance. Mike's abilities—his melee skill, teleportation, and summoning weapons—made him a formidable foe. The Winter Soldier's instincts told him that continuing the fight would jeopardize his mission.

His mission was paramount. Retrieving the serum in the silver box was his sole priority, the reason for his existence.

"Shoot to kill, Shinsou," Mike whispered.

The Winter Soldier's heart skipped a beat as a blade suddenly pierced his shoulder, leaving a bloody hole. Despite the pain, he barely flinched and vanished on his motorcycle.

Mike dissipated the Zanpakuto and turned toward a faint cry for help.

Saving lives came first.

Because of Mike's intervention, the Winter Soldier hadn't finished his task. The Starks' lives hung by a thread. Maria Stark was still conscious, but Howard's condition was critical.

Mike approached.

Howard's blurred vision locked onto him, desperation etched in his features. "Help. Save my wife first," he croaked.

Mike helped him lie flat on the ground and assessed his injuries. They were severe. Without immediate intervention, Howard wouldn't survive.

Maria Stark, in visible pain but not critically injured, pleaded, "Sir, I'm fine. Save Howard first."

"Save her first," Howard gasped.

Mike sighed. "Why don't you both decide and let me know?"

Silence fell as both stared at each other, unable to argue further.

"Fine," Mike muttered. He crouched beside Howard, and a card materialized between his fingers. When it disappeared, a soft green light enveloped Howard, radiating vitality and accelerating his healing.

Howard's pain eased as the aura worked its magic. He stared at Mike, marveling at the miraculous ability.

"Help my wife," he murmured, his gratitude evident.

Mike shrugged and used the rejuvenation technique on Maria, restoring her strength. Ten seconds later, both Starks were on their feet, shaken but alive.

Maria threw her arms around Howard, trembling. "Howard!"

Howard held her tightly, his eyes clouded with disbelief. "Barnes," he whispered. The name rolled off his tongue like a ghost from his past.

He had thought Barnes was long dead, yet here he was, orchestrating their accident, stealing the serum, and nearly killing them. If not for Mike, both he and Maria would've been murdered.

The debt was immeasurable.

Howard turned to Mike, his voice filled with emotion. "Sir, how can I repay you?"

Mike's tone was calm. "Forget I was ever here. Pretend none of this happened."

Howard's brows furrowed. A man with such extraordinary powers, yet wary of attention.

"I swear I'll never tell a soul about you," he vowed. Maria nodded in agreement.

Mike smiled faintly, pointing toward a nearby surveillance camera. "Don't forget to deal with that."

Howard's expression relaxed. "I won't forget."

With a nod, Mike turned and walked away.

"Sir, your name?" Howard called after him.

Mike waved dismissively, climbed into his car, and drove off into the night.

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