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Same apartment as before.
Vance was still there.
But...
Right now, Vance sat obediently in his chair, occasionally wiping the sweat from his forehead. His eyes kept drifting toward Hawk, who stood with his back to him, rummaging through the apartment's refrigerator.
At the same time, the corner of his vision caught glimpses of the beautiful blonde nearby—a woman whose elegance was as striking as her looks.
Just then.
Thud.
Vance flinched at the sound of the refrigerator door closing. He quickly composed himself and continued recounting everything he knew about Amy Chloe.
Hawk listened in silence.
Earlier, he'd taken Amy to New Amsterdam Hospital for VIP treatment, then headed to the Oscorp Bioindustries tower to pick up Gwen.
Gwen already knew about Hawk using the Time Stone to strengthen himself—and that he'd discovered his birth parents in the process.
Just as Hawk had said.
He kept nothing from Gwen.
And so, the moment SHIELD located Amy Chloe, Hawk brought Gwen here.
Gwen stood examining the yellowed photographs in her hands, her gaze drifting toward the crib that looked completely out of place in this room.
A three-hundred-square-foot apartment was cramped enough as it was. Despite being kept meticulously clean, the space still felt overstuffed no matter how you arranged it.
Only the crib remained untouched, preserved exactly as it had always been.
Except...
The crib held no baby.
Gwen pressed her lips together, then shifted her attention to Vance—the tattooed man sitting in the chair, sweating and talking.
Vance's account had started out scattered and disjointed.
But as he continued—and realized Hawk hadn't vaporized him on the spot—he gradually calmed down.
Hawk leaned against the counter, expression neutral.
In truth, Vance didn't know all that much.
Most of what he knew about Amy came from the previous building manager.
Gang member or not, Vance still harbored dreams of one day owning his own rental property.
That was why he hadn't resisted when his boss assigned him here to collect rent and manage the building.
Compared to the violence of street life, he preferred this—mundane work with the quiet rhythm of everyday existence.
After a while.
Vance racked his brain, confirmed he'd shared everything he knew about Amy, then cautiously looked toward Hawk, who still leaned against the counter.
"That's all I know, boss."
"Mm."
Hawk gave a slight nod, expression unchanged.
Vance swallowed hard.
"So can I..."
"Go."
"Thank you, boss."
"Thank you."
The moment those words left Hawk's mouth, Vance's face lit up with relief. He shot out of the chair, thanking Hawk profusely as he hurried toward the door.
But just then.
"Wait."
"...Boss?"
Vance froze with one foot already out the door. His heart lurched as he turned to meet Hawk's gaze.
He was terrified Hawk's eyes might suddenly flash gold.
Hawk regarded him calmly.
"You said you want to own a rental property someday?"
"Uh..."
"I'll make that happen for you."
"Grell."
Hawk turned to the SHIELD agent standing by the door—someone he'd become reasonably familiar with. "I'll leave it to you."
The agent called Grell didn't hesitate.
"Of course, Mr. Phoenix."
"Thanks."
Hawk nodded his appreciation, then waved Vance off.
Vance blinked in confusion.
Grell was already escorting him out, pulling the apartment door shut behind them.
Hawk swept his gaze across the apartment one more time, then looked at Gwen standing before the crib. He smiled.
"I'm a good person."
"I know."
Gwen returned the smile. She let her gaze linger on the crib—clearly over twenty years old—before turning to face him. "Hawk, your mother didn't have a choice when she gave you and Anya up."
Hawk acknowledged this with a quiet sound.
An orphan. Public school education. No marketable skills. A heart condition that made physical labor dangerous. After her husband died, she'd been left with two infants. The only possible outcome was her own collapse—and both children entering the foster system.
That was inevitable.
And the most critical factor?
One of those children had inherited her heart condition.
In the foster system, surgery would be free. Genuinely free—no repayment required later.
But if she'd kept them, the hospital would have demanded payment upfront.
So...
When Amy left them at the church doorstep, it had looked like abandonment. But it was really just choosing the least terrible option from a menu of bad choices.
If she'd kept Anya with her, the girl might not have survived past ten.
Hawk thought about Anya—who'd had heart surgery at three, seven, and nine years old. His gaze drifted slowly toward the photographs on the wooden cabinet.
The next second.
He looked at Gwen. "I actually saw her once when I was little."
Gwen blinked, surprised.
Hawk chuckled softly, reaching back through fragments of memory. "It was when Anya and I were five. We were being taken to a new foster home. When we walked through the door, I felt someone watching me. But when I turned around, no one was there."
In his memory, there had been no one.
But...
Having contracted his past timeline, Hawk could now move freely through the moments of his own history.
So at that five-year-old checkpoint, Hawk had seen her—Amy, hiding behind a large tree, wearing clothes washed so many times they'd faded to near-white.
Back then, Amy hadn't been as thin as the woman he'd carried earlier.
"After Anya and I went inside, she left."
"She probably thought we'd been adopted. Didn't want to interfere anymore. After that, she never appeared in my memories again."
"But actually..."
Hawk paused, shaking his head as he looked at Gwen. "Right when that family was about to adopt us, their relatives died in a car accident and left behind two kids. So Anya and I went back into the system."
Gwen knew Hawk had never been adopted by any foster family, but she hadn't known this particular detail. She pressed her lips together and took his hand. "At least now you know your mother cared about you and Anya."
Hawk looked at Gwen's concerned expression and smiled faintly.
Honestly, his heart was calm.
After all, he was a transmigrator. If he'd grown up with Amy, he wouldn't have minded having a family—even a broken one.
But he'd never known Amy. At least not until he'd contracted his timeline.
So...
Hawk didn't feel that "mother" connection toward Amy. At most, looking at this apartment's layout—and at Amy, still living in the past—he felt a measure of sympathy.
Just as Gwen always said.
He, Hawk, was a good person at heart.
And there was one more thing.
His sister, Anya.
The same principle applied. Even though Anya had stopped asking for her mother like other children once she was old enough to understand, Hawk knew she still wished she had one.
If Amy had deliberately abandoned them, he never would have come here.
But that wasn't what happened. And from a certain perspective, he had been the one who created this past in the first place.
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New Amsterdam Hospital.
VIP Private Room.
Amy lay in bed, breathing tube inserted, surrounded by monitoring equipment. She looked like she was simply sleeping.
And she seemed to be dreaming. A pleasant dream, judging by her expression.
Hawk gazed at the woman in the hospital bed. She was only forty-two, but she could easily pass for someone in her sixties. He slowly extended his right hand.
A lifelike Fire Phoenix—small, crystalline, and graceful—circled above his palm before diving into Amy's battered body, which had been saved just in time but remained riddled with damage.
Gwen watched silently.
Just then.
Psst! Psst!
"..."
Gwen turned toward the sound.
The door cracked open quietly. Sharon stood in the gap, beckoning to her.
Gwen blinked, read Sharon's gestures, and stepped outside. She pulled the door closed behind her and faced Sharon.
"What is it?"
"The Bison Gang is gone."
Sharon kept her voice low. "Let Hawk know—we're analyzing Amy's life history right now. Give us some time to handle things."
Gwen heard this, paused for a moment, then shook her head.
"Sharon, Hawk isn't some demon king."
"I know."
Sharon's response came without hesitation. But knowing didn't stop her from looking at Gwen with the same expression as before.
Gwen opened her mouth to protest, then remembered Hawk's one-versus-two feat over the Atlantic. She nodded.
"Alright. I'll keep Hawk in check."
"Thanks, Gwen."
Sharon gave her a quick hug, then shrugged. "I believe in Hawk too, honestly. But you know how it is—the Security Council gets nervous. I'm just a regular agent doing my job."
Gwen laughed.
"This 'regular agent' has over a thousand operatives under her command."
"I'm the First Agent, after all."
Sharon smiled back, then got down to business. "By the way—how's Mrs. Chloe doing?"
Gwen's smile softened. "The doctors got to her in time. She should be fine now."
And even if there were problems, Hawk was right there.
Sharon nodded thoughtfully, studied Gwen for a moment, then lowered her voice. "Hawk asked me to arrange a property for him in Westview, over in Jersey City. You knew about that, right?"
Gwen had expected something more serious. She smiled at Sharon.
"When Hawk told you, whose phone was he using?"
"Yours."
"Then what do you think?"
"...Fair point."
Sharon caught on, then looked at Gwen. "So you two are moving to Westview? Was that your idea?"
Gwen laughed.
"Who said we're moving to Westview?"
"That house is for Mrs. Chloe."
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