"It's been a while, everyone..."

Steve spoke with a hint of caution. He looked uncomfortable.

Though he'd done something similar during World War II, like traveling the country with a group of showgirls to help sell war bonds, back then, he could at least justify it to himself.

It was wartime. He didn’t like the role, but every bond sold meant better weapons for soldiers on the front line.

But this time was different. This was purely a business move. Becoming a hero again, stepping into the spotlight, all for profit and fame. That was something Steve struggled to accept.

What he underestimated, though, was how deeply the American people still loved him. Even with just a simple greeting and a small wave, the crowd below erupted in cheers.

All the concerns the public had about this new hero from Vought vanished in an instant. They had worried the next superhero might not truly represent America. But not anymore. Captain America himself was one of the country's most powerful symbols.

"Captain, I love you!"

"Welcome back, Captain!"

In the end, it was the crowd’s warmth and enthusiasm that chased away the discomfort in Steve’s heart. As he looked around at the people who supported him, he felt a surge of energy deep inside.

And in that moment, he made up his mind.

Even if this world didn’t need him the way it once had, now that he was awake, he would give everything he had to protect these people who still believed in him.

"Everyone... I'm back!"

* * *

Everything went exactly as Reid had expected.

Steve only had to stand there to win over the American public. He didn’t need any kind of media training.

And from this point on, Reid no longer needed to make an appearance. Time would do the rest. No matter which direction the world moved in the future, it would still stay under LexCorp's control.

* * *

The new hero’s debut went smoothly. Steve won over all of New York, and the live broadcast spread across the country.

Everyone now knew that Captain America had returned.

In the days that followed, Steve was constantly on the move, traveling across the nation.

But it was not to promote himself. Even though Vought was ready to organize a publicity tour, Steve wouldn’t have accepted it. The real reason he went around the country was that the company had picked specific crime cases for him to handle personally. 

Similar to how celebrities in the entertainment world rely on agencies to give them resources and exposure, today’s superheroes also needed Vought’s information network in order to respond to crimes quickly and stay in the public eye.

After all, no one really remembers the second hero to arrive on the scene.

Now, Steve was undoubtedly receiving the benefits of that system. Every mission, every bust, every dramatic entrance: he was the hero who showed up just in time to save the day.

It allowed the public to get to know this World War II legend all over again. And the more they saw, the more they supported him.

As for Steve himself, he too was starting to enjoy this new life.

* * *

A few days later.

On the coffee table in Steve’s apartment sat a pile of invitations to TV shows and movies. 

But he wasn’t planning to accept any of them.

Over this period of time, he had come to see that heroes in this era were highly profit-driven. Or rather, under Vought’s influence, being a hero had become more of a lifestyle choice than a calling.

And in a society like this, chasing benefits was unavoidable. Steve couldn’t change it, and he didn’t plan to either.

Like Reid had said, "Those who carry firewood for the masses should not be left to freeze in the snow." If cheers were the only reward a hero received, how many would truly choose to become one?

For those gifted with extraordinary abilities, if being a hero couldn’t give them a better life, then why wouldn’t they choose to become criminals instead?

So, Steve slowly came to understand the difference between this era and the ideals he held. Still, that didn’t mean he planned to fully embrace it.

Vought paid salaries to every hero. It wasn’t much compared to what stars earned in Hollywood, but it was enough to cover Steve’s current lifestyle. And for him, that was all he needed. He never protected others for fame or fortune, only out of the justice and conviction in his heart.

One by one, he fed the scripts and offers into the shredder.

Then he picked up one last envelope. It wasn't from Hollywood. It was an invitation from LexCorp, sent from Vought's headquarters.

He’d been invited to attend Luthor and Susan’s wedding.

"What should I wear to something like this? I’m sure times have changed."

He had no intention of turning down the invite. But clearly, he needed to brush up on how social etiquette worked in this modern world.

Just as he was thinking about whether he should ask someone for advice on how to behave at Luthor’s wedding, a call came in from the building's front security desk.

"Sir, Mr. Stark is here. He says he’d like to meet you."

At first, Steve thought it was just another fan who had tracked him down, hoping to meet him in person. That sort of thing wasn’t unusual, especially since it wasn’t exactly a secret that he lived in the same building as the Fantastic Four.

But when he heard the name "Stark," he froze. There was one Stark he knew, Howard Stark. They hadn’t spoken often, but there was still a friendship between them. His original uniform and shield had been made by Howard.

"Sir? Are you there? Is Tony Stark a friend of yours?"

The guard’s voice snapped Steve out of his memories.

'Tony Stark... could he be Howard’s son?'

With that thought in mind, he replied to the guard, "Yes. Let him come up. He’s definitely a friend."

"Understood. Enjoy your visit, sir."

The call ended. A moment later, the elevator display in the living room showed someone heading up to Steve’s floor.

Soon after, the doorbell rang. Steve opened the door, and standing there was someone whose presence and demeanor were nearly identical to Howard’s.

"You must be... Howard’s son?"

Though it came out as a question, Steve already knew the answer. No one else could resemble Howard this closely.

"That obvious?" Tony smiled. "Should I be calling you Uncle Steve? Even though you look younger than I do now."

It had been ten years since Reid arrived in this world. Tony, who had once been just 21, now stood as a grown man. Judging strictly by appearance, Steve did look much younger than him.

**

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