After parting ways with Falcon, Daredevil wandered without a particular destination in mind.
After some time listening to the ambient sounds of passing clone troopers and Jedi, he needed somewhere quieter to think clearly.
It didn't take long to reach the Temple Gardens—probably one of the few open spaces that maintained a sense of tranquility. Not because of the Force necessarily, but out of mutual respect for the sacred space.
There, he found another teammate relaxing beneath a large tree.
"Prince T'Challa."
"Matt." The Wakandan heir offered a slight nod and a knowing smile. "Didn't I ask you to use only my first name?"
"Force of habit," Daredevil replied casually.
The prince said nothing more for a moment. "This place reminds me of the gardens back home in Wakanda."
"I'd compare it to Central Park, though even with Manhattan's best efforts to keep it clean, this is definitely cleaner."
"I'd agree with you, but that would reveal my bias toward my homeland," T'Challa admitted candidly.
Daredevil hummed in acknowledgment, choosing to sit beside the prince.
"Feels like we haven't had much time to talk," Daredevil observed.
He gestured openly. "The moment you returned, we rushed to Jabiim, fought a losing battle, then Cap needed rescuing while the war continued raging across the galaxy."
Black Panther studied his friend briefly, a thoughtful expression crossing his features.
"I believe you're correct about that," the prince said aloud, considering. "We truly haven't had time to discuss anything beyond fighting one battle after another."
"Honestly, there are plenty of things—"
"...Is something wrong, Matt?" Black Panther asked, frowning as the blind man fell silent, his head tilted slightly.
"Hmm..." Daredevil responded after a few seconds. "I'm wondering how long he's been up there."
"I think we should check on someone," Daredevil said plainly. "Would you mind coming with me, T'Challa? I'm sure he could use some friends to talk to."
"If it's important to you." The Prince of Wakanda nodded as he and Daredevil walked side by side. "Though I'd like to know who you're referring to."
Spider-Man sat perched on the edge of the Jedi Temple rooftop, just above the main entrance.
He stared out at the Coruscant skyline, knees drawn to his chest, arms folded across them, head resting on his forearms.
The Queens native wore a somber expression, his eyes drifting lazily as he watched the countless ships flying through the air lanes.
Then his gaze shifted to the many areas where high concentrations of transports, cranes, Republic citizens, clone troopers, and even some Jedi were working to clear debris still scattered across the city-planet.
Spider-Man had actually spotted War Machine flying patrol once or twice, as well as Quicksilver's silver-blue blur racing around to assist with cleanup efforts.
From what he'd heard from his friends in the Coruscant Guard, the cleanup would take considerable time given the widespread nature of Ultron's attack.
Honestly... it all made Spider-Man deeply uneasy.
A steady, seemingly endless stream of bodies continued to be discovered. Once found, they were immediately placed into body bags or coffins.
He'd been helping with recovery efforts since his own recovery from Jabiim, but today he just needed some time to himself.
Just one day where he could be alone with his thoughts—thoughts filled with everything he'd experienced and everything he'd left behind.
All things considered, he'd been handling it pretty well.
Spider-Man sighed and pulled out his phone, scrolling through old photos.
He couldn't help but navigate immediately to one of the oldest images he still had.
Taken a month before everything changed: him sitting in a Manhattan café with a smiling Aunt May on his left and a grinning Uncle Ben on his right.
This was one of the last times all three of them had spent time together.
Peter smiled sadly at the old photo and continued scrolling through his collection.
Him and Ben at the museum.
Aunt May throwing a small celebration for the start of his sophomore year.
His best friend Ned Leeds holding up a new chemistry set alongside him.
While the photos were all fairly cheerful, filled with memories that would last a lifetime, a sense of melancholy overshadowed them now.
"So this is where you've been all day."
Spider-Man barely tilted his head to see Daredevil sitting casually to the teen's right.
"Penny for your thoughts, Peter?" Black Panther's regal voice came from his left. "You seem troubled."
Spider-Man hummed noncommittally. "You could say that."
"If you want to talk, we're here to listen," Daredevil said gently.
"What's there to talk about?"
"Quite a lot, surprisingly," the lawyer said kindly. "But... only if you want to."
Spider-Man nodded slowly. The three of them remained there for a long moment, no one making a sound or saying a word.
Only the ambient noise of ships flying overhead blended with the other sounds of the city-planet.
After a while, Spider-Man finally spoke.
"Do you think things will ever be normal again?" Spider-Man asked them both.
Both looked at him with curiosity.
"What do you mean?" Daredevil prompted.
"This," Spider-Man said, gesturing toward the cityscape. "All of this. Everything we've been through, everything we've done. When we go home... will it ever be normal again? Will the lives we worked so hard for ever be the same?"
"Peter, you're being quite philosophical and introspective," Black Panther observed. "Perhaps you'd be willing to share this wisdom with my sister?"
Despite his somber mood, Spider-Man couldn't help but huff at the humorous deflection and nudged the prince gently in response.
"If she asks." Then he sighed. "But seriously..."
Daredevil and Black Panther fell silent for a moment, contemplating the teenager's words.
Spider-Man continued. "I'm just a high school kid. You're a lawyer from Manhattan. T'Challa... well, I can say you had an interesting life even before coming to America."
The Prince of Wakanda hummed at that last statement, though he offered no attempt to deny it.
"But now we've been in an actual space war. Will things be the same for us when we return to Earth?"
All three fell silent again, each considering the young man's question.
After several seconds...
"No... no, it won't be the same," Black Panther acknowledged almost reluctantly. "Nothing can return to what it was. This kind of life is foreign to all of us. War changes people. Conflict changes people. Experience changes people. Nostalgia only carries us so far. What we've endured since arriving here..."
"I still intend to pursue becoming a lawyer," Daredevil admitted. "It's something my father instilled in me. But even knowing that, when we return to Earth, I can say with certainty I'll never see things the same way again."
"I'm actually more surprised by how similar everything is here," Spider-Man said thoughtfully.
"It's reasonable to assume that sentience brings the same problems plaguing civilization and society generally," Black Panther observed. "Though I intend to use what I've learned here when I become King of Wakanda. Understanding what I've witnessed now makes me realize life for my people has been somewhat... insular. Changes must be implemented to advance Wakanda's development and allow it to thrive moving forward."
"What about you, Peter?" Daredevil asked, turning to the teenager. "You still need to finish high school."
Spider-Man hummed at that. "Do I? Right now, I honestly don't see the point."
"I imagine your aunt will be very insistent you complete your education," Daredevil said. "When you finish high school, you'll have extraordinary lessons and stories to share with your classmates."
"Like anyone at school would believe me... if I can even go back to school," Spider-Man said glumly.
"Don't we have cameras integrated into our suits?" Daredevil asked. "Besides, there's always private tutoring to consider."
"I can imagine many people on Earth would help with arrangements," the Wakandan prince said. "Shuri would probably volunteer eagerly. Though... there might be complications."
"Complications?" Spider-Man asked skeptically.
Black Panther elaborated. "If not private tutoring, then perhaps one of your superiors could call in a favor with Director Fury and arrange teachers to compensate for the time you've missed."
"Have you met that man?"
"No, have you?"
"If he's anything like Master Windu, then he makes sense," Daredevil said. "The other Avengers mentioned they're remarkably similar in appearance and demeanor."
"Though from what I've heard from Mr. Stark and Natasha, Fury is decisive, competent, principled, and more like a perpetually lit fuse."
"I believe that only manifests when tested," Daredevil said. "Barton mentioned the Director's patience with Stark."
"What about our secret identities?"
Black Panther frowned at that, and Daredevil paused momentarily.
"I mean, won't it seem suspicious that we're all returning around the same time as Black Panther, Daredevil, and Spider-Man reappear? The world doesn't know who we are beneath the masks."
"That's definitely an issue we'll need to address," Daredevil acknowledged.
"If you decide to return to public school, you might need to reduce your heroic profile."
Spider-Man shook his head firmly. "No. I can't do that. It would be irresponsible, and God knows what's happened on Earth since we've been gone."
"Then I suppose our best option is to address that problem when we actually face it."
Spider-Man hummed in agreement.
"Thanks for listening," he said quietly.
His fellow New Yorker patted him on the back reassuringly.
"Are you coming to the meeting?" Daredevil asked.
Spider-Man shook his head. "I think I'll stay up here alone for a while longer."
The two men nodded to the young hero, stood, and left him to his thoughts.