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ONE | SAVE EARTH, SAVE
HUMANITY

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"Natasha! Don't let go! Dammit! Clint, pull us back up now!" desperately cried Apollos as he gripped his beloved's wrist. Glancing at his waist, he released a small sigh in relief as a thick cord was wrapped around him, preventing him from falling further. They were in Vormir and they were told that the only way for them to retrieve the Soul Stone was if one of them sacrifices the soul of someone they love.

Apollos struggled to keep his grip tight on Natasha's wrist as he reached out to unwrap the rope around his waist. He was planning to tie it around her and fall instead since he was an Eternal, a near-immortal synthetic being. He knew the fall would only badly injure him, not kill him. "Paul, no!" protested Natasha, swallowing. "Let me go."

Apollos shook his head, frantic. His eyes were glistening with tears and he could already feel some of them running across his cheeks. "No, please, Nat! Listen to me -- "

"It's okay, it's okay."

"Why you? Why does it have to be you?"

Natasha smiled, reminding him of the days where he would wake up beside her with the light from the window casting a soft glow on her face. "I love you... Apollos."

"No, no, no! Natasha!"

Then, she let go of him.

Apollos jolted awake, his eyes snapping open. Covered in a cold sweat, he trembled, his heart pounding with all the adrenaline rush. He glanced looking around his bedroom. He felt like he was still in Vormir with Natasha. He tried to ease himself by drinking a glass of water, but he was too weak and still shook. To fully awaken himself, he rubbed his temples. As he stumbled into the bathroom, he examined himself in the mirror slowly and warily, as if unsure of what he might see. The sun shone brightly through his window, washing away the terror and allowing him to return to his regular existence.

Brewing himself a cup of coffee, he slowly walked over to his balcony. Alone, he stood in the verdant vastness of the dale, the grass ruffling in salutations to the never-ending breeze. His eyes welled up with tears. Natasha would have loved this scenery. It was what he promised after all. He told her before the Time Heist that once they finally get everyone back, he'll take her here in the South of France to marry her. She was going to retire as an Avenger and they were going to start their own family.

As heliacal beams, uncurbed and obdurate, sliced through the dark nebulae, the beclouded sky staged a duel of darkness and light, each attempting to overpower the other's zeal. Everything appeared to fit together: the lush vegetation, the environment, the warmth of the sun. The nice sounding birds' chorus could be heard. There was an unmistakable sense of inner calm and harmony. The grasses appeared to be having a dance party with the wind, moving to their own beat.

He remembered the first time he met her. It was the twenty-third of June 2016 when their paths crossed. It was evening and he had gotten home from the museum. He was exhausted and his clothes contained remnants of dust everywhere. Apollos, knowing he was alone, shed his clothes one by one as he strolled inside his living room. Different works of art -- paintings and sculptures covered his entire hallway and just as he dropped his white long sleeve polo and trousers on the floor, he was greeted by the sight of a scarlet haired woman sitting casually on his couch.

He paused, blinking. For a moment, he thought he was just imagining it, but no, there was really a woman inside his condominium. Apollos tilted his head. "And you are?"

"Natalie Rushman."

"Is that an alias?" He cocked an eyebrow. "Because I have a feeling that's not your real name."

Her smile slowly rippled across her face, like slipping into a warm bath on a cold day. "Natasha Romanoff."

"Paul Vernon, but I think you already know that. So, tell me, Miss Romanoff, who sent you?"

Once she stepped into the light, Apollos cautiously examined his evening intruder. The moon's delicate light seemed to have just turned the world a-flame with silver when he saw her. Natasha Romanoff was a beautiful, petite woman. He took notice of her thin face and full lips. She was smaller than him now she was standing, she was more than a foot shorter than he. Apollos loomed over her like a statue, larger than life. Her languid eyelashes of velvet-black blinked once slowly, as if to invite him over. "Why don't you get dressed first and I'll tell you why I'm really here?"

Apollos glanced down at his bare torso. He just wanted to sit down across from her, still half naked, but he was a decent man with manners so he didn't. "Give me a minute."

"Of course."

"And if you came here to assassinate me," he voiced out, his long legs carrying him to his room in three long strides. "I'm warning you now, don't even try to bother."

"Of course. You can trust me, Paul."

Then, she explained how he was being monitored by SHIELD for a long time now after he saved a couple of hostages from a bank robbery with nothing but a bow and arrow, made from an unknown source of energy. So, now, he will be required to sign the Sokovia Accords and join Tony Stark in bringing the renegade Avengers or he will be revealed and branded to the public as a fugitive.

Worried that his Eternal race will be discovered, he agreed to help their team, but asked to not be required in signing the Accords and be left alone again.

Obviously, that didn't happen.

Back in the present, Apollos returned to his kitchen and finished his cup of coffee. A smooth chocolate taste, followed by an aftertaste that was mellow, rich and deep with just the slightest wisp of dry smoked wood rolled across his tongue. He gave a small smile and glanced at his clock. The Eternal had to prepare now for his flight to Paris.

The day outside his cottage was picture-perfect, and even the buses arrived on schedule. In the morning sun, the different colored buildings gleamed beautifully, and the sky was an uninterrupted expanse of blue. Commuters walked in all directions like shoals of fish. This is what he wanted Natasha to see and experience. Peace. All he wanted for her was to rest and live far away from the chaos.

It had been eight months after she departed and the pain of losing her haunted him. He surmised that he will never be able to get over her and even promised to never love anyone else as his heart and mind will forever belong to her.

Reaching the airport, he was assisted by his newly hired flight attendant on board his private plane. The flight to Paris didn't take too long and soon, he was driving to the world's largest museum that had collections that span work from ancient civilizations to the mid-19th century, the Musée du Louvre or the Louvre Museum. The home of some of the best-known works of art, including the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo.

Apollos had been working there as the Curator for the Department of Antiquities for almost seven years now, having transferred from Washington, D.C as a senior anthropologist at the Smithsonian Institute. He had always been interested in ancient Mediterranean civilizations. How they developed and declined as centuries passed. He was always amazed how humans have created myths that included him.

The Greek god, Apollo, the god of the sun and light, music and poetry, healing and plagues, prophecy and knowledge, order and beauty, archery and agriculture, was inspired from him. Those who created the myths witnessed him personally emit powerful beams of cosmic energy, molding it into the form of a bow and arrow which he often used to fight Deviants. Humans in the past saw his "prophecies" come true and thought they were divine guidance.

Apollos had the ability of intuitive precognition. His power manifested not in the form of visions or premonitions, but in the form of vague knowledge and intuition. His ability granted him vague knowledge of future events, but not their causes. He doesn't gain any information, only hunches -- like they were gut feelings. As a result, his body would sometimes automatically move on its own, and he wouldn't understand his actions until the time comes. They would often come in when he was in danger or if the event was supposed to be prevented. To onlookers, it appeared unpredictable and erratic, but his fellow Eternals would take into heart his warnings and advice.

Dropping his attache case inside his office, he opened his phone for a moment to check if he received any new message. He was supposed to acquire a text from Ajak yesterday about where they will meet, but he didn't get any. He narrowed his eyes and pressed the call button. Ajak would never forget anything, he knew that.

After she told them to go their own ways and start their own lives, Ajak approached Apollos and Ikaris, requesting that they not lose contact with her. During the time they were apart, he would visit his leader wherever she was. Apollos was supposed to do the same now, but her number was unreachable. Was something wrong?

Just as he was about to leave his phone inside his drawer, a familiar number popped in his screen and he arched an eyebrow. Even though he didn't save the caller's number, he knew who it was. The Eternal never saved anyone's number in his contacts. It was a thing that he just doesn't do. He didn't know why. He just memorizes the numbers that were necessary.

Tapping the answer button, he was greeted by the soothing gentle voice of Cassandra Mason, his best witch friend. "Hello, Pols!"

"Woman, how many times do I have to tell you to not call me that?" He shuddered plopping down to his chair. "It's Paul or Apollos."

"But, I love Pols. It's cute, and I'm the only one who calls you that."

Apollos rolled his eyes as he imagined his friend on the other line pouting. "Yeah, whatever. You seem awfully chirpy today. What's up?"

"Uh, nothing. I just wanted to check up on you."

He shook his head. After their final battle against the alternate version of Thanos, Cassandra let him stay in the Sanctum for five months. She helped him in whatever she could. She didn't let him out of her sight even just for once. She and her children, Megara and Theseus, were there for him, comforting him through his hardest time. Vesper, his other friend, even stayed in the Sanctum with him until she was sent by Cassandra to investigate an anomaly in Westview.

"I'm doing well, Cass. No need to worry too much about me."

He heard a sigh on the other end of the call. "Alright, fine. Just call me if you need anything, okay?"

"I will. Thank you."

"You're always welcome, Pols. Have a great day! Bye!"

"Bye, Cass."

As soon as the call ended, Apollos picked up his gloves and necessary equipment, heading to the room where he will begin cleaning the collections that will be exhibited next week.

"Good morning, Mr. Vernon."

Apollos smiled at the elderly man. "Good morning, Mr. Laurent." Licking his dry lips, he stared at the large marble statue in front of him. It was the creation of the great Michaelangelo. The Eternal had always admired the sculptor's amazing talent. He was able to make Marcellus' physical anatomy look real enough for someone to believe it. The sculpture's shoulders and muscles look as if they could be soft and his face looks as if he could be sad. The statue of Marcellus was believable -- which was incredibly difficult to achieve with a block of marble.

Touching the statue, Apollos tilted his head. It didn't take him long to figure out that the statue had already been cleaned and only needed a protective surface coating. The conventional approach was to apply a thin layer of microcrystalline wax to the surfaces that are susceptible to condensation and bat excreta.

But, Apollos decided otherwise. Instead of microcrystalline wax, he'll employ lime shelter-coat or limewashes, which stick nicely to worn surfaces while also protecting friable marble. Rolling up his sleeves, he then uttered, "Time to work."

He gathered his fine brush and proceeded to carefully coat the marble sculpture. Marble monuments are a distinctive element of British art and design that communicate a significant record of events from the early seventeenth century to the present day. That is why cleaning these priceless artifacts should always be a meticulously planned and conducted conservation operation.

Apollos' lips curled into a smile again. This was his job as a curator.

People with jobs like him are in charge of a museum or art gallery's collection of exhibits. Their duty is to amass collections, which are frequently in specialized fields. Through exhibitions, publications, events, and audio-visual presentations, curators create new ways to understand items, archives, and artworks. Buying exhibits, organizing displays, arranging restoration of artefacts, identifying and registering things, organizing loans, and dealing with inquiries are all part of their responsibilities.

Apollos spent a good hour meticulously coating the sculpture's head. History was something that really interested him. Among all the things that fascinated him about humans, it was this that he focused more on.

To study history is to study change.

The past teaches us about the present, Apollos believed. History provides a key viewpoint for understanding and solving current and future problems because it equips us with the tools to evaluate and explain problems in the past. This allows people to detect patterns that would otherwise be invisible in the present.

"What did you do this weekend, Paul?"asked one of his elderly coworkers as he worked to preserve a painting.

Apollos continued to coat an area of the statue. "Me? Nothing too interesting."

"That's all you ever tell us."

The Eternal chuckled. "What can I say? I'm not that exciting."

"Oh, come on. You're an Avenger." declared the man whose name Apollos recalled was Victor Beauregard. "You helped in getting half of the population back. Surely, there is something that will come and call you into action again."

Apollos had tried his best to keep his Avenger status from his coworkers, but it was difficult especially when the news proclaimed him as one of the heroes who fought against the Mad Titan. Being an Avenger was something he didn't know if he should be happy or not. Sometimes, it felt like a burden, but also an honor to be one of Earth's heroes.

Actually, whenever his former coworkers would start to ask questions about his age and appearance, he would start preparing to leave his job and his home. But, not this time, they were aware that he possessed abilities that can protect humans from global and universal threats. He just had to lie to them about how he aged slower than humans just so he could keep his Eternal origin hidden. Nobody except Natasha knew about what he really was. Everyone around them -- even Clint, Natasha's best friend, didn't know he was an Eternal, a synthetic being. They were like Vision, but more human-like.

Just as Apollos stepped back to admire his work, he felt a gnawing feeling radiating from her guts. There it was again, his instinctive feeling kicking in. Closing his eyes, he listened to what his small internal voice was saying.

You should be in your office.

As always, he received very vague knowledge about what he should do. Without thinking twice, he dropped his brush and graciously excused himself from his colleagues.

"Another Avenger level trouble, Paul?"

Apollos glanced at Victor. "Let's hope not, Victor. I promise I'll work overtime next week."

The grey-haired man chortled, "Just go, child."

Nodding, the towering Eternal made his way to his office where he listened to his instinct again. It instructed him to open his cabinet from the corner and gather his emergency bag that was full of his clothes and necessities. Ever since he became a fugitive of the law for helping Natasha evade Secretary Ross, he took it upon himself to pack an emergency bag that he can just take with him anywhere whenever needed. Right now, it once proved itself useful since a minute later, his door burst open and in came three people he never thought he'd see again.

Sersi, Sprite, and Ikaris.

"Apollos..." Sersi softly mentioned his name.

The Eternal arched an eyebrow, his posture poised with grace. He gripped his bag's handle. "Sersi."

The woman's gentle brown eyes moved to his bag and she smiled. Sersi had always been his friend. Whenever Ajak wasn't around, she was the one who would accompany him whenever he would start to isolate himself from the others. "Of course, you already had an idea."

Apollos gently laid his bag atop his desk. "What brought you here? I haven't seen you all for what? A hundred years?"

Ikaris bluntly stated, "Ajak's dead."

The man's right eye twitched, his fist clenching. He couldn't believe their Prime Eternal was already dead. "Who killed her?"

"It's not who, it's a what. The Deviants." replied Sprite directly to her point. "They're back, Apollos."

Apollos' expression hardened. The time has come. The Emergence was going to happen soon. He can feel it in his entire being now. He shook his head. That would result in the death of this world and its people. Earth will no longer cease to exist when Tiamut the Communicator emerges from the core of the planet. He should've known this was already going to happen when the victims of the Snap were resurrected. The population was now enough to trigger Tiamut's Emergence.

He then pondered: what would Nat tell me if she were here? What would she want me to do?

Apollos pursed his lips as he shut his eyes, imagining what his beloved would advise him.

Save Earth, save humanity.

"Let's assemble the team."

so, what do you think of this first chapter? please, leave a comment! istg it motivates me and makes my day! thank you!

also, here's a little power walk from our big three: