Time Variance Authority

Brad was not going to visit Howard.

After all, having a child take someone else as his godfather seemed to be a serious family affair.

So Howard and his family had to visit Brad instead.

After thoroughly discussing the matter with Howard over the phone, Brad simply bought a detached villa outside New York City.

Howard also assigned Obadiah to run errands, arranging servants, a gardener, and a butler for Brad's newly purchased home.

It was just like the traditional estates and villas of the British aristocracy.

Of course, in the United States, money and power were enough to make you that kind of "aristocrat." There was no need for a queen to tap your shoulders twice with a ceremonial sword.

Poor Obadiah was already a senior executive at a major arms company, yet Howard sent him running all over the place like a chauffeur.

Still, Obadiah showed no dissatisfaction. On the contrary, he bustled back and forth with great enthusiasm.

In his mind, if this helped him build a closer, friendlier relationship with Brad, it would be a worthwhile investment in the future.

The black sedan drove into the estate that now belonged to Brad, passing tall iron fences, apple trees, cobblestone paths, and immaculately trimmed lawns.

"We're here, sir."

Obadiah had arranged Brad's driver. Each level of the hierarchy bore down on the one below, and the gap in wealth and social standing had the driver bowing and scraping as he climbed out to open Brad's door.

Brad nodded, held his deerskin dress hat in place with one hand, and stepped out of the car. The driver then dutifully picked up a large pile of luggage and followed close behind him.

The servants had prepared everything at the entrance well in advance. Just as Brad stepped onto the third wooden stair, a servant pulled the door open, keeping the time it stood open to a minimum.

That ensured the cold wind would not carry away the warmth produced by the roaring fire inside.

They were all professionally trained staff. It seemed Obadiah had put real effort into this.

Or, to put it another way, he had spent enough money.

As soon as Brad entered, servants gathered around to take his coat and hat, while another placed a pair of warmed, plush slippers at his feet.

He watched the servant holding his coat bow slightly to him, then gracefully carry it away to be pressed.

"So this is the good life?"

Brad slowly let out a breath, and someone immediately appeared beside him with a tray of cigars.

He picked one out, walked over to the sofa, and sat down, waving away the servant holding a cutter and lighter.

Brad bit off the end of the cigar, pressed one hand against its tip, and took a deep drag.

The fragrance of the cigar slowly drifted through the air.

"Logan definitely couldn't handle being waited on like this. Pearls before swine, I suppose."

With a touch of malice, Brad imagined how Logan would react if he were here, then quietly waited for Howard and his family to arrive.

Around midnight, a faint bell rang at the entrance to Brad's estate.

Brad sat up, straightened his collar, had a servant take away the remains of his cigar, and settled into a formal posture.

The butler stood beside the door with his hands behind his back. After a brief, silent wait, the doorbell rang.

The front door opened, revealing Howard and his wife, Maria, standing outside with gifts in their hands.

Little Arnie, who did not even reach Howard's knees, stood timidly beside his father, clutching his trouser leg with one hand.

"Please come in, Mr. Howard."

The butler politely stepped aside.

The tradition of godfathers and godmothers originated in the custom of having an adult undergoing baptism accompanied and vouched for by a church member known to the bishop.

Different churches had different requirements for godparents. Some required only a godfather or a godmother, while others required one of each.

But Howard was not a devout Christian.

So this was closer to the Italian kind of godfather, a mentor within the Mafia.

Of course, Howard and Brad were not involved in organized crime. (Brad: Actually, I am.)

However, Howard owned Stark Industries, an international arms group, and was also an influential chief scientist in a special secret department of the United States government.

His family observed the same etiquette and conventions as other Western aristocrats and powerful figures.

Thus, in having Little Arnie take Brad as his godfather, Howard's greater hope concerned the boy who was destined to inherit all his knowledge and wealth.

He wanted Brad-the only fellow researcher Howard had ever acknowledged as his equal in talent-to become one of the guides in this child's future.

The decision might initially have been somewhat hasty, but Brad had, after all, saved Little Arnie's life.

The reason they had waited until he was three was his health. Despite the Iron Lung System, Little Arnie had been frail from birth, so he had spent those three years being carefully nursed at home.

Brad was not a Christian either, so he decided to baptize Little Arnie in his own way.

His palm gently swept over Little Arnie's head.

From this day onward, child, wherever you may be, whether you are rich or poor, whether you befriend the world or make an enemy of it...

You will hold the highest level of access, second only to mine, to every creation under my authority, the authority of Brad.

Skynet's voice sounded at just the right moment.

Genetic authentication successful.

Pupil authentication successful.

Bodily radiation, brainwave wavelengths, fingerprints... all recorded. Grant Arno Stark the highest level of access, second only to yours?

"Yes."

Brad's words rang out in the physical world, seeming somewhat abrupt: a sudden "yes" after a stretch of silence.

But Howard seemed to understand something. He quickly urged his son, "Come on. Uncle Brad is your godfather from now on."

Little Arnie blankly wrapped his arms around Brad's leg.

"Godfather."

Howard and Maria clasped both pairs of hands together, exchanged a glance, and smiled.

Beyond the universe, in the zero-time dimension, a group of people wearing specially designed uniforms bustled about a hall filled with advanced technology.

Alert. A new anomaly has appeared.

Alert. A new anomaly has appeared.

Inside a mysterious room, red warning lights flashed continuously. A wall opened, and a cryogenic chamber slowly slid out.

Then the cryogenic chamber began to emit a mechanical hum.

Its upper lid opened, and a man in a black uniform designed somewhat like a suit sat up inside.

He frowned, seemingly not yet fully awake, and raised a hand to his head.

Timekeeper 9527, a new temporal anomaly has appeared in the universe under your supervision. This anomaly has been recorded...

Alert. Fluctuations at the temporal anomaly have deviated from the projected values.

Alert. Deviation has reached six hundred percent... alert. Deviation has reached one thousand percent.

Alert. A new timeline has branched off. This universe has taken an entirely different course. Please act immediately.

The man shook his head.

Then his expression turned to shock.

"What?! How did it happen so fast? You didn't give me any time to react!"

"I only just woke up, and a new universe has already branched off?!"

The man hurriedly jumped out of the cryogenic chamber. His motor functions had not fully recovered, so he could only limp toward the exit.

The doors slid apart, and he saw countless colleagues who looked exactly like him, all wearing panicked expressions as they hurried toward their assigned posts.

"What the hell is going on?!"