"So what's with the hair? Is that a thing in your dimension—genetically improbable hair colors? Or is it some kind of teenage rebellion manifesto?"
Tony Stark lounged on a swivel chair in his lab, feet propped up on a workbench, casually tossing a stress ball in the air while addressing the three UA students seated across from him. What had been scheduled as a "dimensional energy assessment" had quickly devolved into what felt suspiciously like an interrogation masquerading as casual conversation.
Bakugo's eye twitched. "What kind of stupid question is that? It's just my hair."
"Uh-huh." Stark caught the stress ball and pointed it at Todoroki. "And I suppose Half-and-Half over there just happened to get a perfect red-white split down the middle? What are the odds?"
"It's related to my quirk," Todoroki answered simply, unfazed by the nickname that would have earned anyone else a freezing glare. "The dual nature is reflected physically."
"Huh," Stark replied, sounding genuinely interested despite his flippant tone. "And Broccoli Boy? What's your excuse?"
Midoriya blinked, taken aback by the new nickname. "B-Broccoli Boy?"
"The hair," Stark clarified, making a circular motion around his own head. "Very... vegetative."
"It's just my natural color," Midoriya explained, self-consciously touching his green curls. "Lots of people in our world have unusual hair colors. My mom's is green too, just a different shade."
"See, that's the stuff I find interesting," Stark continued, spinning in his chair. "The subtle differences between dimensions. Your world developed quirks, superpowers became the norm, and apparently the human genome decided to go full-rainbow on hair pigmentation."
Bakugo crossed his arms, scowling. "Is there an actual point to these questions, or are you just wasting our time?"
"Multitasking," Stark replied glibly, tapping a nearby console. Immediately, holographic readouts sprang to life around the three students. "JARVIS is scanning your quantum frequencies while we chat. The more animated you get—" he gave Bakugo a pointed look, "—the clearer the readings."
"You could have just told us that from the beginning," Bakugo muttered.
"Where's the fun in that?" Stark grinned. "Besides, genuine reactions provide better data than staged ones. Science 101."
Midoriya leaned forward, momentarily forgetting his embarrassment as curiosity took over. "So you're mapping our emotional states to quantum fluctuations? That's brilliant! In our world, there's research about how mental states affect quirk output, but nothing at the quantum level."
"Fascinating, isn't it?" Stark agreed, seeming pleased by Midoriya's quick understanding. "Now, moving on to more important matters—what's with the costume designs in your world? Explosion Boy here looks like he's wearing grenade-themed pajamas."
The stress ball Stark had been tossing suddenly exploded in a small, controlled blast, reduced to rubber confetti that drifted down around them. Bakugo's palm smoked slightly, his expression murderous.
"They're specialized gauntlets designed to store my nitroglycerin sweat for controlled detonation," he growled. "Not pajamas."
Stark didn't even flinch at the display, merely raising an eyebrow as he brushed rubber fragments from his shoulder. "Impressive aim. Terrible anger management, but impressive aim."
"Kacchan," Midoriya cautioned, "he's just trying to get a reaction for the readings."
"Don't care," Bakugo snapped, though he unclenched his fists with visible effort. "He can get his readings without insulting my hero costume."
"Fair point," Stark conceded with surprising ease, spinning to face a different console. "Though I stand by my critique. The aesthetic is... busy. But the functionality is impressive. Storing explosive sweat for later use is actually clever engineering." He tapped some commands, bringing up the enhanced designs he'd created for their costumes. "Which is why I maintained that core concept while streamlining the look."
Bakugo's retort died on his lips as he studied the updated design, his expression shifting from anger to annoyed interest. "The channeling system is different."
"Better directional control, more efficient storage capacity," Stark explained, now fully in engineer mode. "Should give you more precision for those spinning explosion moves you're so fond of."
"Howitzer Impact," Bakugo corrected automatically.
"Great name," Stark nodded approvingly. "Very marketable. Do you shout it when you use it? Please tell me you shout it."
"Of course I do," Bakugo replied, looking at Stark like he'd just asked if water was wet. "How else would people know what move you're using?"
Stark blinked, then looked at the other two. "Is that... a thing in your world? Announcing your attacks?"
"It's common practice," Midoriya confirmed. "Part of hero branding. Special moves need recognizable names and callouts."
"Whoa," Stark murmured again, and this time there was no mockery in his tone. "Your world really did turn heroism into a structured profession. Branding, costumes, special move callouts—it's like professional wrestling met emergency services and had a super-powered baby."
"That's... actually not inaccurate," Midoriya admitted with a small laugh.
Stark spun back to face them, his expression shifting to something more directly curious. "So what's the deal with you three, anyway? Friends? Rivals? Both?"
The UA students exchanged glances, none immediately answering the unexpectedly personal question.
"It's complicated," Todoroki finally offered, master of understatement as always.
"I love complicated," Stark countered, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "Complicated means interesting. Spill."
Bakugo snorted. "We're classmates. End of story."
"Classmates who happen to have been specifically selected by a dimensional-hopping villain as 'perfect catalysts,'" Stark reminded them. "There's more to it than that."
"We weren't friends growing up," Midoriya explained hesitantly, glancing at Bakugo. "Kacchan and I, I mean. We knew each other as children, but..."
"But I was a jerk to him because he was quirkless and I wasn't," Bakugo finished bluntly, surprising everyone with his candor. "Then he suddenly got a quirk right before high school, got into UA, and now we're stuck in this weird rival situation. Happy?"
Stark blinked, clearly not expecting such straightforward honesty. "Actually, yes. Refreshingly direct. And you?" He turned to Todoroki. "Where do you fit in this dynamic duo?"
"I transferred into their class after being raised in isolation by my father to be the perfect hero," Todoroki stated with the same matter-of-fact tone one might use to describe the weather. "Midoriya helped me overcome my reluctance to use my fire quirk during the Sports Festival."
"Sports... Festival?" Stark repeated slowly.
"It's a national competition for hero students," Midoriya explained. "Broadcast live across Japan. Agencies use it to scout potential interns."
Stark stared at them for a long moment, then burst out laughing. "Your world is absolutely wild. Child soldiers with superpowers competing in televised gladiatorial combat to be recruited by hero agencies? And I thought our reality had issues."
"It's not like that," Midoriya protested, though he understood how it might sound to outsiders. "The Sports Festival has strict safety protocols, and internships are closely supervised."
"Uh-huh," Stark nodded skeptically. "And how many times have you three nearly died during these 'closely supervised' activities?"
The uncomfortable silence that followed was answer enough.
"That's what I thought," Stark continued, his tone shifting to something more serious. "Look, I'm not judging. This world throws teenagers into battles with aliens, apparently. But I am curious about the system that shaped you."
"Why?" Bakugo demanded, ever suspicious.
"Because understanding your background helps us understand your capabilities," Stark answered honestly. "And because if we're going to work together, I need to know what makes you tick." He paused, then added with a hint of his earlier humor, "Also because your world sounds like a screenwriter's fever dream, and I find that endlessly entertaining."
Before any of them could respond, JARVIS interrupted.
"Sir, the quantum frequency scanners have detected an anomaly matching the predicted pattern. Location: Central Park."
Stark was on his feet instantly, all traces of humor vanishing. "Scale?"
"Minor, sir. Similar to the previous incident, but with a 12% increase in intensity."
"Another dimensional fluctuation," Midoriya murmured, excitement and concern warring in his expression.
"Looks like it," Stark confirmed, already moving toward what appeared to be a sealed chamber at the far end of the lab. "JARVIS, alert the team. And prep the Mark VII."
"Already done, sir."
Bakugo stood, palms sparking with anticipation. "We're coming too."
It wasn't a question, and surprisingly, Stark didn't treat it as one. "Suit up then. Your enhanced gear is ready for field testing anyway." He paused, turning to face them with uncharacteristic seriousness. "But you follow orders. All of you. This isn't your world, and we don't know what we're dealing with yet."
"Understood," Todoroki nodded, already moving toward the door.
"This dimension-hopping villain of yours," Stark called after them as panels in the wall slid open to reveal his Iron Man armor. "Did they have a name?"
The three students paused, exchanging glances as they realized they'd never actually learned the villain's identity.
"They didn't introduce themselves," Midoriya admitted. "Everything happened too fast."
"Great," Stark muttered, stepping into the assembly platform. "Unnamed interdimensional threat with unknown capabilities and motivations. Just another Tuesday."
"It's Thursday," Bakugo corrected automatically.
"Figure of speech, Sparky," Stark replied as the armor began assembling around him. "Now move it. We've got a potential breach to investigate, and I want our resident dimension-hoppers front and center when we do."
*********
Twenty minutes later, the unlikely team arrived at Central Park, where SHIELD agents had already established a perimeter around a secluded area near the Bethesda Fountain. Civilians had been evacuated, and scientific equipment was being hastily assembled under Banner's direction.
"Anything yet?" Stark asked, his armor gleaming in the midday sun as he landed beside Rogers, who had arrived ahead of them.
"Nothing visible," Rogers replied, nodding a greeting to the three students who had traveled via quinjet with Romanoff. "Banner's readings show residual energy but no active distortion."
"We missed it," Banner confirmed, looking up from his equipment with evident frustration. "The fluctuation lasted approximately eleven seconds before dissipating."
"Longer than the last one," Romanoff noted, her expression calculating. "They're getting stronger."
Todoroki moved to examine the site, crouching to place his palm against the ground. "There's a temperature differential here. Colder at the center, warming in concentric circles outward."
"Good catch," Banner nodded, adjusting his instruments. "The energy disbursement does follow a radial pattern."
Midoriya was already taking notes on his tablet, green eyes scanning the area with analytical intensity. "Any sign of physical transfer? Objects or... entities coming through?"
"Nothing on the sensors," Banner replied. "Though if something small enough came through—"
"It wouldn't necessarily register," Stark finished, his armor's scanners conducting their own analysis. "JARVIS, molecular scan of the affected area. Look for anything non-native to this environment."
"Scan in progress, sir."
Bakugo prowled the perimeter, clearly frustrated by the lack of tangible threat to confront. His upgraded gauntlets gleamed in the sunlight, the reinforced metal catching the light as he flexed his hands impatiently.
"This is a waste of time," he muttered. "If something came through, it's long gone by now."
"Patience, Sparky," Stark admonished, hovering a few feet off the ground for a better vantage point. "Sometimes the exciting part of the job is the tedious scientific analysis that prevents catastrophe later."
"Stop calling me that," Bakugo growled, huffing. Somehow, in the span of just a few days, Stark's nickname had become more irritating habit than genuine insult.
"Make me a list of alternatives and I'll consider them," Stark replied distractedly, focused on whatever readings his helmet was displaying. "JARVIS, what about that anomalous signature by the tree line?"
"Analyzing, sir. It appears to be—"
The AI's response was cut off by a sudden ripple in the air—similar to a heat mirage but more structured, with geometric patterns forming and dissolving in rapid succession. Everyone tensed, weapons raised and quirks activated as they formed a loose semicircle around the distortion.
"That's it," Midoriya whispered, recognition clear in his voice. "That's exactly what the villain's quirk looked like before we were transported."
"Energy readings are spiking," Banner reported urgently from his position behind the protective line of heroes. "Similar frequency to our visitors but with distinctive variations."
"Something's coming through," Rogers stated, shield raised in preparation.
The distortion expanded rapidly, now the size of a small doorway, emitting a high-pitched whine that had everyone wincing. Bakugo's palms erupted in controlled explosions as he positioned himself in an offensive stance. Todoroki created a low wall of ice, ready to expand it instantly if needed. Midoriya activated Full Cowling, green lightning crackling around his form as he prepared to either attack or defend.
Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the distortion collapsed in on itself with a muted implosion of air.
Leaving behind a single, small object.
"What the hell?" Bakugo muttered, cautiously approaching with Stark and Rogers flanking him.
Lying on the grass was what appeared to be a notebook—ordinary in appearance save for the scorch marks on its cover and the strange symbols written across its surface.
"Don't touch it," Stark warned, armor-enhanced scanners already analyzing the object. "Could be anything from a bomb to a biological weapon."
"It's a notebook," Midoriya stated, moving closer with careful steps. "And those symbols... that's Japanese. It says 'Analysis: Dimensional Boundaries, Test Subject Group A.'"
"Test Subject Group A," Rogers repeated, a concerned frown forming. "Meaning you three?"
"Has to be," Romanoff confirmed, her expression grim.
"But why send a notebook through?" Banner wondered, approaching with a containment field generator. "Why not come through themselves?"
"Because they're still testing," Midoriya realized, eyes widening behind his mask. "They're sending inanimate objects first to ensure stable transport before risking living subjects."
"Methodical," Stark observed. "I hate methodical villains. They're so much more annoying than the impulsive ones."
Banner activated the containment field around the notebook, lifting it into a suspended state for safer examination. "We'll need to analyze this back at the lab. Could contain valuable information about their research."
"Or it could be a trap," Rogers cautioned. "Designed to be brought into our secure facility."
"Probably both," Stark agreed cheerfully. "The best traps always contain genuine bait. JARVIS, full spectrum analysis. Any sign of triggering mechanisms, exotic energy sources, or hidden compartments?"
"Initial scan shows no conventional explosive components, sir. However, there appears to be a residual energy signature embedded in the molecular structure of the paper itself."
"Like it's been infused with quirk energy," Midoriya suggested, leaning closer to the suspended notebook with fascination rather than fear. "Some quirks can imbue objects with properties—maybe this is something similar."
"Or it's the interdimensional equivalent of a letter bomb," Bakugo countered bluntly. "Booby-trapped to blow when opened."
"Your optimism is inspiring, Sparky," Stark remarked dryly.
"Stop calling me that!" Bakugo snapped, small explosions popping from his palms in irritation.
"There it is," Stark said with evident satisfaction. "I was starting to think you were developing impulse control. Glad to see some constants across the multiverse."
Rogers stepped between them before Bakugo could escalate further. "Let's focus on the situation at hand. We need to secure this object and analyze it safely."
"Agreed," Banner nodded, already preparing the specialized containment unit for transport. "I've got protocols for handling potentially hazardous artifacts after our experience with the Tesseract."
As they prepared to return to the tower, Stark hovered near the three UA students, his faceplate retracting to reveal an expression of genuine curiosity beneath the usual snark.
"So, quick question before we head back to potentially open Pandora's interdimensional notebook—in your world, do villains typically send their research notes through portals? Is that standard evil scientist protocol, or is this guy just exceptionally terrible at operational security?"
Midoriya frowned thoughtfully. "It is strange. Villains don't usually document their activities so formally, and they certainly wouldn't risk losing their research."
"Unless it's not the real research," Todoroki suggested quietly. "But a deliberate plant."
"Bingo, Half-and-Half," Stark pointed at him approvingly. Bakugo's snort was heard in the background, smirking at the nickname.
"The Ice-Fire Wonder gets it. This is either incredibly sloppy or incredibly deliberate. Neither option is particularly comforting."
"Or," Bakugo interjected with unexpected insight, "they're not concerned about us seeing their research because they're so far ahead it doesn't matter."
Stark's expression shifted to one of grudging respect. "Also a valid theory, Explosion Boy. Maybe there's a brain behind all that rage after all."
"I will murder you in your sleep," Bakugo stated calmly.
"You'd have to get past JARVIS, seventeen different security protocols, and whatever Avenger has insomnia that night," Stark replied without missing a beat. "But I admire your optimism."
Midoriya stepped in, recognizing the warning signs of Bakugo's rapidly fraying patience. "We should head back and examine the notebook safely. If it contains information about the dimensional transportation quirk, it could be crucial for getting us home."
"Voice of reason strikes again," Stark nodded, his faceplate sliding back into place. "Alright, field trip's over. Back to the tower for Show and Tell with our new interdimensional party favor."