Wyatt took a leisurely sip of his iced coffee, the cold beverage a refreshing contrast to the warm afternoon sun that bathed the patio of his favorite coffee shop. He tipped his head back slightly, enjoying the quiet hum of conversation around him, before flipping the page of the book in his hands. To go with it, a small stack of books sat on the table.
He was dressed in a comfortable, faded T-shirt and well-worn jeans. His baseball cap sat snugly on his head, casting a shadow over his eyes, while the thick-rimmed, nonprescription glasses he wore served to obscure his identity and give him a thoughtful appearance.
"Would you like another one, Wyatt?" One of the coffee shop employees, Greg, asked, seeing Wyatt's now empty drink.
Greg is a young college student who works part-time to help cover his education costs at Empire State University. He and his coworkers at the coffee shop have grown accustomed to seeing Wyatt, who visits almost every day. Wyatt is their favorite customer because he consistently leaves generous tips. Stephanie, another employee, and a struggling student was thrilled when he once left her a $200 tip and nearly hugged him in appreciation.
"Yeah, if you don't mind," Wyatt said and gave Greg a smile in appreciation. Greg nodded and walked into the building.
Wyatt turned back to his book on agriculture and agronomy. His eyes moved quickly down the page, and his brain swiftly absorbed the knowledge, thanks to his eidetic memory and processing speed.
Gotta make sure I know my stuff. I don't want to create monster plants or any other eldritch monstrosity by accident. Wyatt thought with a slight chuckle.
"You know, you're a tough person to track down Wyatt Wilkins. Or do you prefer Atomic?" Phil Coulson said with a friendly smile as he took a sip of his own black coffee. He was sitting at the table behind Wyatt. Shocking the young reality warper.
Ah, crap. I guess I shouldn't be too surprised SHIELD found me. It was only a matter of time. Ah, well, it's time to play ignorant. Wyatt frowned and turned to face the man. Holy shit, it's the Phil Coulson!
Christ, he really is just a kid. Phil thought, maintaining his calm and friendly expression.
"Huh? What are you talking about?" Wyatt said innocently, his book now closed. "While it would be very cool to be a superhero, I'm not Atomic. You got the wrong guy, mister…?"
"I'm Agent Phil Coulson. I'm with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division." Phil said. "You've done a great job of throwing us off, Mr. Wilkins."
"That was a mouthful. You seem like a nice guy, Agent Coulson, but I'm not Atomic. That guy is probably out there saving a cat from a tree. I'm just trying to get my education. So, if you don't mind, I'm going to leave." Wyatt said and stood up.
"I would have believed that if it weren't for the fact that you stopped attending school two years ago and aren't taking any courses anywhere," Phil said. "Listen, I'm not here to detain you; I just want to talk."
As Wyatt packed his books into his backpack, he finally noticed something he had overlooked all this time. Throughout the street, several people remained in the same spots where they had originally been. Usually, this wouldn't be an odd sight and would have gone unnoticed by an ordinary person. However, after three hours of those same people not moving too far from their original positions, it was clear they were there for a reason other than simply enjoying the sights that Midtown had to offer.
"You say that, but with the number of your fellow agents you have here, I find that hard to believe," Wyatt muttered, dropping the act. Turning to the coffee shop, he noticed that all the customers and employees were gone. As were the people on the street. "You guys move quickly and quietly. No wonder Greg never came back with my drink."
"The staff and other customers weren't harmed, if that's what you're thinking. The other agents were just a precaution," Phil said as he moved to sit across from Wyatt. "Listen, Mr. Wilkins, I believe you're genuinely trying to do good. I can see it in all the people you've helped over the past three months."
"Yet you and a team of super secret agents come to say hi armed to the teeth," Wyatt said and opened his eyes. While Phil had been talking, he sent a pulse of energy out in his immediate area, around 20 meters, to check what weapons or gadgets SHIELD brought to greet him.
He wouldn't mind scanning SHIELD's toys to acquire their blueprints, but with his current skills, he needed to physically touch something to get their atomic makeup. "That's not very nice. What? Were they out of gift baskets?"
Phil blinked slowly, a smile creeping across his face. Years of dedicated service with SHIELD had honed his ability to read people, turning subtle cues into vivid revelations on who they were. As he observed Wyatt, the young boy's body language spoke volumes; there wasn't a trace of fear or hostility in his posture.
The 16-year-old exuded a remarkable calmness, standing with a relaxed confidence that belied the tense situation around him. It was evident to Phil that Wyatt's unique abilities contributed to his composure, enabling him to remain unflappable in the face of the agents encircling him.
"Stand down. I'll take it from here," Phil said as he held a finger to his earpiece.
"Agent Coulson? Surely you're not serious?" One of the many agents asked.
"I'm sure."
Wyatt watched as the surrounding agents all left one by one. Leaving him and Phil alone outside the coffee shop.
"Wow. You must be pretty up there in this organization of yours." Wyatt said and tried to take a sip of his drink but found it empty. In a flash, his drink was refilled. "Want me to top yours off, Agent Coulson?"
Phil blinked in astonishment, seeing Wyatt's abilities firsthand. It was completely different from watching them on tape.
"Ah, no. I'm fine," Phil said. "Let's get straight to the point; I don't want to waste any more of your time. We understand that your identity is very important to you. Rest assured, only a small handful of people in SHIELD know that Wyatt Wilkins is Atomic. You have my word on that. Now, onto why we're here; it's quite simple. We want to get a clear idea of your agendas and determine if we can trust you to continue operating as you have been."
"You want to know if I'm a threat or not?" Wyatt said, taking a slow sip of his drink. "Don't worry. I don't have any grand plans of world domination or terrorizing anyone. Well, that's not true. I do plan on terrorizing the criminal element in the world."
"The world? You plan on operating outside of New York?" Phil asked.
"I do. I plan on helping everyone. Not just New Yorkers. Not just those in the United States. I want to help everyone on this little planet of ours. That's my agenda, Agent Coulson." Wyatt smiled, his words genuine.
Wyatt meant every word he said. Three months ago, when he first began his career as Atomic, he never anticipated how fulfilling this path would be. At first, the thrill of using his powers to confront thugs and criminals provided an immediate rush—a sense of justice served with each encounter. However, as time passed, he discovered that the real reward lay far beyond the adrenaline.
What filled him with true satisfaction was the knowledge that he was making a tangible difference in people's lives. The moments he spent helping those in need, offering hope and change with his own two hands, became the driving force behind his actions. It was in those profound yet straightforward interactions that he realized he was not just fighting against injustice; he was actively shaping a better future for others.
Wyatt couldn't shake the feeling that he was experiencing the same internal pull that many superheroes in fiction had faced. In the past, he had always been puzzled by what motivated these caped crusaders to put on their masks day after day, battling villains and facing seemingly insurmountable odds.
It was a mixture of a deep sense of duty, an innate desire to protect the vulnerable, and the hope that his actions could inspire change. At that moment, he understood that heroism wasn't just about grand gestures or superhuman powers; it was about the courage to stand up for what was right, even when the outcome was uncertain.
Wyatt was acutely aware that he would not have reached this profound conclusion so swiftly were it not for the unique gift of possessing two lifetimes of memories. In his younger years, he might have succumbed to the temptations of his powers, wielding them selfishly—perhaps to settle scores with a world he felt had turned its back on him. The anger and pain from his past could have easily driven him to use his abilities as weapons rather than tools for change.
Conversely, in his elder years, Wyatt might have used his powers with an air of authority but without a proper understanding of the responsibility that came with that immense capability. He would have been like a child with a shiny new toy, oblivious to the potential for harm it could cause. Driven by impulse and ego, he might have made choices that were more about self-aggrandizement than genuine service to others.
Now, however, Wyatt found himself in a unique position. By merging the wisdom and sense of responsibility gleaned from his older self with the raw, unfiltered understanding of life's hardships and the deep heartache from losing his family that marked his younger self, he had transformed into someone fundamentally different.
He realized that he could no longer afford the luxury of selfishness or arrogance. Instead, he embraced the difficult truth that he needed to elevate his purpose, becoming a symbol of hope in a world fraught with danger and suffering. Each challenge he faced only deepened his resolve to act as a force for good, a protector advocating for those who had none.
Even with all this in mind, Wyatt understood that he wasn't perfect—everyone was flawed in their own way. He was sure he'd make several mistakes on his path as Atomic. But that recognition didn't deter him; instead, it fueled his determination to strive to be better. With every decision and every action, he aimed to honor the complexities of his past and the promise of his future.
Phil remained silent for a long time, allowing Wyatt's words to wash over him as he contemplated their meaning. The young hero's passionate speech lingered in the air, filling the space between them with a palpable energy. Gradually, a smile crept across Phil's face, a mix of admiration and understanding softening his expression. Rising to his feet, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a small, elegantly designed card, its surface gleaming faintly under the dim light.
With a steady hand, Phil extended it toward Wyatt, his gaze filled with encouragement. "I think I've heard enough," he said, his voice warm and assuring. "Good Luck, Mr. Wilkins. I hope you succeed in your mission. Take this. It's in case you ever need help."
Wyatt took the card, watching as Phil walked down the street until he was out of sight. After a quick scan, he confirmed that the card was free of tracking devices. With a slight smile at having met the man who brought the future Avengers together, Wyatt placed the card securely in his pocket.
However, a feeling of unease settled over him like a heavy cloak. The knowledge that some members of SHIELD were now aware of his true identity—and, by extension, Hydra—was deeply unsettling.
He had tried to keep his identity a secret by taking extra precautions, such as changing into his suit out of sight of any cameras and following convoluted paths home to evade potential followers. Yet, he realized he must have made a mistake at some point that led SHIELD to discover him.
Despite this, he knew there was little he could do at this point other than to keep moving forward. While his abilities were developing rapidly, giving him a newfound sense of power and confidence, he understood that this did not make him invulnerable. Every move had to be calculated, and every interaction measured, especially with SHIELD or Hydra now on his heels.
I hope Coulson was telling the truth when he said only a few people know who I am. Wyatt thought with a sigh. How annoying. Now I have to find a new place to live.
Grabbing his books and backpack, Wyatt left the coffee shop. Before he left, he placed a white envelope with cash for his bill and a generous tip for Greg under a plate.