Life with superheroes

After a morning of playing, Eric and Charles were completely exhausted.

After lunch, the two little ones were so sleepy that they fell asleep almost immediately. Mike worked for a while and then started preparing dinner. Noticing this, Clark quickly came over to help.

It was Christmas Eve, and tonight's dinner was going to be sumptuous.

The whole afternoon passed in quiet serenity.

In the evening, after the family of four finished their elaborate meal, they gathered around the fireplace. Each held a steaming cup of hot chocolate as they watched TV, with no plans to venture out into the heavy snowstorm.

Suddenly, a familiar figure appeared on the screen.

It was Tony Stark.

At that moment, Tony Stark was earnestly wishing everyone a Merry Christmas.

It was the time of year for companies and public figures to broadcast holiday greetings, and as the new head of Stark Industries, Tony Stark naturally took center stage.

"Huh? This guy is running Stark Industries now?"

Mike froze, staring at the youthful yet arrogant face spouting unappealing words. He muttered under his breath.

It seemed that even though he had saved Howard, events still followed their original trajectory.

Was this the self-repair mechanism of time and space?

Just then, Mike overheard a curious conversation.

Charles: "Isn't this guy the strange old man we saw that day?"

Eric: "Yeah! And you even called him the delivery man. That was way too much!"

Charles: "Weren't you the one who thought he was a beggar?"

Clark: "So, he's rich? Well, looking at that smug face..."

The three of them spoke in unison: "I really want to beat him up!"

Mike chuckled silently. If the three of you tried to beat him, would he even survive?

"Dad, let's take a photo!" Charles suddenly suggested, pulling out his camera.

Eric fetched a red Santa hat and placed it on Mike's head. Meanwhile, Clark handed Mike a gift box and said, "This is from the three of us."

Mike was momentarily stunned. As he accepted the gift, his heart warmed, and tears nearly welled up in his eyes.

He hugged the three of them tightly before setting the gift aside. Then, he sat under the Christmas tree while the boys stood behind him. Eric adjusted the camera and counted down.

"Merry Christmas!" they all shouted in unison.

The photo captured four radiant smiles under the glow of the Christmas tree.

Later that night, when Clark and his brothers returned to their room, they were greeted by sports cars and bicycles adorned with Santa Claus decorations. Their joyous cheers echoed through the house.

Clark claimed the blue bicycle. After a spirited discussion, Eric chose the black one, leaving Charles with the white one—a decision he accepted with a mockingly dejected face.

Hearing the lively commotion, Mike smiled contentedly. He then picked up the small gift box the boys had prepared for him.

The box was no bigger than his palm. What could possibly fit in here? Mike wondered.

When he opened it, he was surprised to find a gold ring.

Gold?

Mike frowned. Where did they get the money to buy this? Did they earn it through their own abilities?

At that moment, Mike noticed a small card beneath the gift box.

To our dearest dad!

After some warm words, three signatures appeared in distinct handwriting. In the corner, there was a note that made Mike laugh and cry:

P.S. We bought this with pocket money we saved over a long time.

The words "a long time" and "pocket money" were boldly underlined—clearly Charles's handiwork.

Mike picked up the ring, noticing an inscription engraved on it:

To dear Dad.

He slipped it onto his finger, finding it a perfect fit.

I didn't expect my first ring in this world to come from my children.

Mike's lips curled into a soft smile, and he rolled around on the bed like an overjoyed child.

"Dad?"

Clark's voice came from the doorway.

Mike froze, coughed lightly, and composed himself. Turning to face Clark, he asked, "What's up?"

"Eric and Charles wanted me to ask if we could have something different for breakfast tomorrow."

Mike usually prepared bacon and toast, finding it quick and easy. But given their special request, he nodded. "No problem!"

Clark smiled, shut the door, and exchanged victorious high-fives with Eric and Charles. Whispering cheers, they returned to their rooms and went to bed.

The next day, the Kent family spent a delightful day in New York City. They shopped, rested, and finally returned to their farm outside the city to resume their normal routine.

Meanwhile, far away...

Raven, with her unique mutant abilities, was the perfect agent and infiltrator.

As the New Year approached, she received a new mission: assassination.

Her target was a scientist—a man notorious for experimenting on mutants, dissecting them, and posing a grave threat to their kind.

Raven had killed before, but no target had ever filled her with such fury. She was determined to send him to hell without delay.

When she infiltrated his laboratory and saw the blood-stained reports, it was as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her. Her body shivered involuntarily.

Then came the rage—a fiery inferno igniting within her, threatening to consume her entirely.

Despite lacking the Black Emperor's approval, she had come here on her own.

The Black Emperor…

The thought of him darkened her gaze. Ever since a certain woman appeared three years ago—becoming the Black Queen of the Hellfire Club and Sebastian Shaw's new hand—the group's leadership had changed. They have became more unbridled.

If this continues, the organization will inevitably start to deteriorate.

Raven took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, banishing all distracting thoughts from her mind. She fixed her gaze on the research institute in the distance, transformed herself into a security guard, and confidently strode toward it.

She had already pinpointed the target's location—inside a facility cleverly disguised as a pharmaceutical research institute.

Through a series of transformations, she discreetly subdued the guards and tucked their unconscious bodies into inconspicuous corners. From a security guard, she morphed into an experimental assistant—one of the few individuals authorized to access critical areas.

With a bald head, a plump body, a patchy beard, and dark circles under his eyes, her current form was unrecognizable. No one could have guessed that this nondescript figure and the striking woman were one and the same.

After successfully passing fingerprint verification and pupil recognition, Raven finally gained access to the institute's deepest section.

When she saw what lay inside, her mind went blank.

It was horrifying.

Unconscious mutants were confined in specialized compartments, as helpless as lambs awaiting slaughter. Some were carried into the labs, while others were disassembled into "parts" and sent out.

"Vida! Hurry up, the doctor is looking for you. There's an experiment waiting for decomposition," someone said, patting her shoulder.

The experimenter's tone carried a note of impatience, as if wary of crossing her.

Raven nodded and silently followed them toward the laboratory.

Her eyes burned with cold, unrelenting fury.

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Don't forget to vote with power stones guys, your love is all I need.