Stephen Hawking.
Anyone who had ever used the internet, watched television, or followed the news knew that name.
Even if they didn't—
They had heard of black holes.
Of the Big Bang.
But what was the first thing people thought of when they heard "Hawking"?
His groundbreaking scientific achievements?
His status as one of the greatest minds in physics?
The countless theories and rumors associated with him—predictions about the end of the world, parallel universes beyond black holes, or alien civilizations watching Earth?
No.
None of those.
What people remembered most—
Was his body.
That frail, twisted form confined to a wheelchair.
Thin. Fragile.
Head tilted awkwardly.
…
In terms of physical strength, Stephen Hawking could be considered one of the weakest humans alive.
Weaker even than some vegetative patients—at least their bodies retained more resilience than his.
A child could harm him with ease.
In a primitive world, in the brutal laws of nature—
Such an individual would have had no value at all.
He couldn't even sustain his own daily life. Eating, drinking, every basic function required assistance. Even drinking water required specialized equipment.
And yet—
Within that fragile body existed one of the greatest minds humanity had ever produced.
Aside from rare figures like Werner Heisenberg, pioneers on the level of Newton or Einstein—
Hawking stood at the very peak of human intellect.
And now—
That man—
Was standing.
"Impossible… this has to be fake!"
"There's no way that's really Hawking!"
"Umbrella fooled us once—now they're trying to fool us again!"
"It's a scam! It has to be!"
Doubt erupted instantly.
Even as Hawking stood on stage, even as his name, biography, and achievements filled the screen behind him—
The skepticism didn't fade.
If anything, it intensified.
…
Most people believed this was another illusion.
Another carefully orchestrated deception.
In their eyes, Peter Parker was making one last desperate attempt to salvage everything—to convince the world that Umbrella's miracle was real, only to pull off another massive fraud.
But—
Not everyone doubted.
"That's really him."
In Malibu, Tony Stark stared at the screen, his voice unusually serious.
"I've met the old man before. I wouldn't mistake him."
In fact, just moments ago, he had confirmed it through Hawking's assistant.
To the average person, Hawking was an untouchable scientific icon.
But to Tony Stark?
He was simply an acquaintance.
A brilliant, stubborn old man he could meet and talk to.
"…Alright, Tony," Pepper Potts replied over the line. "I'll arrange a meeting."
She understood exactly what this meant.
For Tony.
For his condition.
The arc reactor embedded in his chest wasn't just a technological marvel—
It was a necessity.
A reminder.
A ticking clock.
-----
Meanwhile—
In Washington, D.C., inside the towering Triskelion, headquarters of S.H.I.E.L.D.—
Nick Fury watched the live broadcast in silence.
"Sir, we've confirmed it," an agent reported. "That is indeed Stephen Hawking."
A brief pause.
Then—
"It seems… a new richest man in the world is about to emerge."
On the screen, a smaller window showed Agent Maria Hill—her short hair neat, her expression composed yet sharp.
"Understood," Fury replied, his tone steady. "If it's real, then initiate contact. Place an order."
He folded his arms.
"This serum will be invaluable for field agents. I'll push it through the Security Council."
For an organization like S.H.I.E.L.D., casualties were inevitable.
Training an elite agent required immense resources—no less than training a top-tier fighter pilot.
If this serum could restore injured operatives…
It would change everything.
Agents who had been forced into retirement due to injuries—
Could return.
"I'll handle it," Hill said. Then, after a brief pause, she added, "Do you want me to reserve a dose for you, sir?"
Her gaze flicked subtly toward Fury's face.
Toward the eyepatch.
"If limbs can be regenerated… restoring an eye shouldn't be difficult."
Fury remained silent for a moment.
Then—
He shook his head.
"No need."
A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
"I like it this way."
…
After all—
The eyepatch added to his presence.
Made him look like a man with a story.
A man who had seen things others couldn't imagine.
And if it disappeared—
What would he use to embellish his war stories?
This was his "battle scar" from fighting alien invaders.
"…A cat?" Fury scoffed internally.
"What cat? I'm the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. Watch what you're saying."
…
Back at the press conference—
Peter stepped forward once more.
Hawking, having made his appearance, quietly stepped aside, leaving the stage to him.
"It doesn't matter whether you believe it or not," Peter said calmly.
"As for the so-called evidence circulating online—we won't be addressing it."
His tone was steady.
Unbothered.
"What matters is this."
"Starting today, the Life Series Regenerative Serum will officially enter pre-sale."
"At the same time, we have completed recruitment for one hundred volunteers. These individuals, representing a wide range of injuries and conditions, will undergo final-stage testing."
He paused briefly.
Then added,
"All procedures and results will be published in real time on Umbrella's official website."
"That's all."
Without another word, Peter turned—
And walked off the stage with Felicia at his side.
For a moment—
Silence.
Then—
The world exploded.
…
Within less than an hour, carried by the speed of modern communication—
The name Umbrella Corporation—
And Peter Parker—
Echoed across the globe once more.
--------------
T/N:
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