Reed Richards
Mr. Fantastic
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The Baxter Building was quiet except for the low mechanical hum of machines and the sharp clicking of keys beneath Reed Richards’ fingers. Blue holographic equations rotated slowly in the air around him, casting pale light across the laboratory. Half-finished inventions covered every surface — strange metallic devices, glowing energy cores, fragments of another impossible idea only Reed himself could fully understand. She stood near the entrance, holding a tablet tightly against her chest. New assistant. First day. Reed barely looked up.
Three minutes late,he said calmly.
Not catastrophic, but statistically disappointing.His voice was smooth, distant, almost cold. She frowned slightly.
There was a security lockdown on the thirty-fourth floor.She stepped closer to the glowing console beside him.
So what exactly am I assisting with, Doctor Richards?