As soon as the waitress walked off with our menus, Johnny leaned back like he was settling into a lounge chair, arms stretched across the back of the booth like he owned the place.
"So," he said, giving me a half-smirk, "you really don't know any other heroes besides Cap and Spidey?"
I shrugged. "Not really. I mean, I know who Spider-Man is—kinda. He climbs walls and does flips and talks a lot, right?"
Johnny blinked like I'd just confessed to never hearing about water. "Wow. Okay. You've been living under a rock."
"I was just busy jumping off roofs with my dad," I said. "Didn't have time for superhero trivia."
"Alright," he said, cracking his knuckles, "time for a crash course. Welcome to Superhero 101."
He started ticking off fingers. "First, you got the Avengers. The big dogs. Big tower, big threats, even bigger egos. That's your Iron Man, Thor, Hulk, Captain America—you know, the ones that get action figures and lawsuits."
"Okay," I nodded. "I've at least heard those names."
"Next up," he said, puffing out his chest, "you've got the Fantastic Four. That's my crew. Scientific geniuses, cosmic radiation, and stylish uniforms. We save the world and look good doing it."
"Are you the stylish one?"
"I am the fire," he said, snapping his fingers like he expected flames. (Thankfully, nothing happened indoors.)
I snorted. "Sure."
"Then there's the X-Men," he continued, "mutants with powers, mostly based out of a school in Westchester."
That made me tilt my head. "Wait, what's a mutant?"
He leaned in a little, serious for a second. "Mutants are people born with powers. It's in their genes—no radioactive bugs or lab accidents. Usually shows up around puberty. Some can fly, some can read minds, some explode things by blinking too hard. Totally random."
I blinked. "So like... powered-up people from birth?"
"Exactly. They're just regular people—with extra spark. Some folks love 'em. Some folks don't. It's… complicated."
I nodded slowly. "So they go to school?"
"Yep, Professor X runs it. Smart guy. Bald. Mind-reader. Serious wheelchair swag. The school's like Hogwarts if everyone could melt stuff with their brains."
"That sounds awesome," I said, already imagining blowing up chalkboards with a sneeze.
"Oh, it's cool until Magneto shows up and starts throwing metal buildings at people," Johnny said casually. "Anyway—back to the tour."
He counted on. "There's also the Defenders—street-level types. Daredevil, Luke Cage, Jessica Jones, Iron Fist. They're like the B-team Avengers but with way more attitude and way fewer clean shirts."
"Okay, that's kind of awesome."
"Right? Then there's the Young Avengers. Teen heroes, some are kids of the big guys, others just… showed up and started kicking butt."
I tilted my head. "So superhero club…but with hormones."
He laughed. "Basically. And then you've got the Midnight Sons—super spooky folks. Ghost Rider, Blade, Moon Knight. They handle the stuff that goes bump in the night."
I raised an eyebrow. "Like monsters?"
"Yup. If it's got fangs, a curse, or smells like rotten brimstone, they're on it. Don't ever accept candy from any of them. Just saying."
Noted.
"Last group worth knowing—Alpha Flight. Canadian team. Snow powers, magic, probably ride moose into battle."
"…You're joking."
"I am mostly not joking."
I leaned back in my seat, wide-eyed. "This is a lot."
Johnny grinned. "Yup. And that's just the teams. There's a million solo acts, magic people, space people, and timeline messes running around here."
"How does this city function?"
"We don't function," he said, throwing his arms out. "We improvise."
Just then, the waitress passed by with a tray of pancakes for myself, and Johnny sat up straight. "Alright, lesson's over. Let's fuel up before you meet half these people by accident."
I wasn't sure if he was kidding. Which was the part that worried me.
"I wonder if I'm a mutant?" I said out loud, kind of to myself, as I chomped into my pancake and slurped up the last bit of sundae. Honestly, it was more of a daydream than a real question—just me imagining what kind of power I'd have. Laser eyes? Teleportation? Turning broccoli into burgers?
Johnny nearly choked on his bite of eggs. "What are you talking about? Knowing your dad's life, I seriously doubt you've got the X-gene."
He waved his fork around, still chewing. "I mean, maybe if your mom had it, you'd have a shot. Mutations are genetic, after all."
I paused mid-bite, blinking at him. "So it runs in families?" I asked. "Then maybe I've got a better chance than you think. I'm adopted."
Johnny froze like someone hit pause on him. Fork halfway to his mouth, eyes wide, mouth just hanging there.
"...You're adopted?"
"Yeah," I said casually, shrugging. "You didn't know that? I thought you were friends with my dad?"
"I mean, kinda!" he said, blinking rapidly. "He just said you were his son. I saw that streak of white hair in your head and figured... y'know, parents these days, dyeing their kid's hair for flair or something."
"This is my natural hair color," I said, side-eyeing him as I poked at my pancake. "I've always looked like this."
He leaned in like he was solving a murder mystery. "Wait—so you're adopted, you've got weird multi hair color, and you're out here jumping off roofs? What about school? What about... like, child safety laws?"
"Dad said I shouldn't go to school 'cause I might hurt the other kids by accident. Plus, I heal super fast, so it's fine for me to be jumping off of broken buildings."
"That is so not fine!" Johnny whispered, almost yelling but trying not to cause a scene. "You're a only... eight? Nine?"
"Eight," I corrected. "But mature for my age."
Johnny groaned into his hands. "Why is it always the weird ones with the adorable faces?"
I grinned, then leaned forward. "So... is there a way to test if I've got the X-gene? You know, just to make sure?"
He perked up. "Actually, yeah. Reed—Reed Richards, he's our team genius—he could run a full analysis on your DNA. Dude can probably figure out what you had for breakfast in kindergarten just by swabbing your ear."
"Cool," I said, imagining myself glowing or shooting lasers during a test or something. "Do I have to spit in a tube or something?"
"Probably. Or like... stand still while some sci-fi scanner lights up around you. He's dramatic like that."
I grinned, thinking, Maybe I do have powers. Maybe I'm not just some weird kid with freaky healing and a white streak.Then I paused."Wait... If Reed can test DNA, could he figure out where I came from?"
Johnny stopped mid-sip of his coffee and looked at me for a beat.
"...I mean, yeah. He probably could."
And just like that, my brain exploded with about a hundred new questions.
I leaned back in the booth, chewing slowly on a piece of pancake, my thoughts drifting again. "You know," I said, "I always wondered where I came from."
Johnny raised an eyebrow mid-sip of his coffee. "What do you mean?"
"Well… Dad said I just sorta showed up one day."
Johnny lowered his cup like I just told him I dropped from the moon.
"Showed up?" he repeated. "Like, on the doorstep or something?"
"Nope. In his office," I said, like it was the most normal thing ever. "Apparently, he was having this party with my uncle—some guy I've never met—and the next thing he knew, I was just… there."
Johnny blinked slowly. "You're telling me Dante—a grown man who drinks and fights for fun—had a party with his mystery brother in a tower… and you magically appeared in his office after?"
"Yup," I said, stabbing a sausage with my fork. "He said it was some tower or whatever. Real fancy. Guess my uncle didn't set up anything for him though. Dad was kind of salty about it."
Johnny's eyes squinted like he was trying to focus on a really bad riddle. "Okay, hold up. So your dad throws a party in a mysterious tower, wakes up, and bam, there you are?"
I nodded. "That's what he told me. He just said, 'You were there, so I kept you.' Like I was a really cool lost puppy or something."
Johnny rubbed his face like this was the most exhausting breakfast of his life. "And he never explained it after that?"
I shook my head. "Every time I asked, he'd just say 'I'll tell you when you're older.'" I did air quotes with my syrupy fingers. "But I've been older for, like, years now."
"You're eight."
"Exactly. Ancient," I said, slurping the last of my sundae with a grin.
Johnny chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "Kid… you're either part of a crazy sci-fi plot or the universe just likes messing with your dad."
"I like to think both," I said, mouth full of pancake. "Anyway, if Reed can figure out mutant genes, maybe he can figure me out too."
Johnny pointed his fork at me. "Fair warning: if Reed discovers you're actually an alien prince or a time-traveling clone baby, I'm not babysitting anymore."
"I dunno, I think I'd make a pretty awesome alien prince," I said, puffing out my chest.
He laughed, then shook his head. "You're definitely your dad's kid, that's for sure… powers or not."