Reborn as a Saiyan in marvel

The sky above New York still streaked with wisps of ash and faint trails of smoke. alien invaders were gone, their remains scattered among the streets, sidewalks, and skyscrapers that bore the scars of the battle. Yet, amidst the rubble and chaos, life was beginning to stir again.

Crowds in Times Square, their faces illuminated not by the vibrant advertisements that once dominated the skyline, but by the faint glow of emergency lights and the rising sun. The Avengers—the team of misfits, legends, and enigmas—had saved the city, but the public's reaction was anything but straightforward. Amidst the ruins, a sense of hope and resilience began to take root, as people slowly realized that they had survived, and that the city would rise again.

"He destroyed the nuke!" a young woman exclaimed, her hands gesturing wildly as she recounted the moment to a of survivors gathered in Central Park. "He threw it right through that alien portal and blasted it with this… this golden-green energy! It was like watching a star explode."

Beside her, a man replayed shaky footage on his phone. The video captured Viridian, his body ablaze with an aura that shifted between emerald and gold. The missile was in his hands, his teeth gritted in determination as he hurled it toward the swirling void in the sky. A blinding burst of energy followed—a pulse of light that seemed to shake the heavens themselves.

"He didn't just save New York," the man muttered. "He saved the planet."

Cheers for Viridian echoed through the streets. Strangers embraced, tears streaming down their faces as they shared tales of the green-haired hero shielding them from falling debris or cutting through Chitauri ranks like a force of nature. To them, Viridian wasn't just a hero—he was a legend in the making.

Not everyone was quick to celebrate. Amidst the debris, news crews reported live, and the questions being asked were far from reverent.

"This was the government's plan," a reporter stated sharply, addressing the camera. "They launched a nuclear missile to end the invasion, but it was intercepted by Viridian. He not only stopped it from detonating here but destroyed it in another dimension. What gives him the authority decide the fate of the world?"

In the background, angry voices rose. "Who is he, really?" one man shouted. "How do we know he's not another? He's got powers none of us understand!"

On talk shows and social media, the debate raged. Was Viridian a savior, or a wildcard too dangerous to be trusted? Some feared his immense power, likening him to a god who could act without oversight. Others questioned his motives. "He destroyed the nuke," one analyst noted, "but what if he'd decided not to? Who holds him accountable?"

While the world argued, others saw an opportunity. Merchants lined the streets, selling hastily printed shirts emblazoned with "Viridian Saves the Day" and action figures modeled after the green-haired hero. #Goldenaze trended on social media alongside #ViridianTheSavior. Artists posted renditions of his climactic act, depicting the golden-green explosion lighting up the portal as he stood triumphant. At the same time, conspiracy theories swirled. Some claimed Viridian was part of a secret government experiment gone rogue. Others insisted he was an alien who had orchestrated the invasion only to emerge as a hero.

In the dimly lit remnants of Stark Tower, a makeshift command center buzzed with activity. The Avengers were gathered here, their attention fixed on a large screen where a news anchor's voice conveyed a mix of awe and skepticism.

Onscreen, a loop of footage played: Viridian's emerald aura blazed as he deflected a nuclear missile with effortless precision. Civilians below scrambled for cover, their faces a mix of fear and wonder as the Saiyan hovered the city, a figure of unimaginable power.

 anchor voice was sharp she gestured toward the image. "While Viridian's actions have undoubtedly saved countless lives, they've also raised significant questions. Who is this mysterious figure? What are his motives? And should someone with such immense power be held accountable for the left in his wake?"

Tony Stark swir a glass of scotch in his hand, the light from the screen glinting off the. "Well, at least they're asking the right questions now," he quipped, leaning casually against the table. "Though I think they missed the real headline: 'Viridian Saves the Day While Stark Watches.' Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

Steve Rogers, standing by the window, turned to face him. His blue eyes were steady but tinged with irritation. "This isn't about you, Tony. It's about the fact that he stopped a nuclear missile from wiping out millions of people."

Tony raised his glass in a mock toast. "Oh, don't get me wrong, Cap. The guy's got style. He saved the day in a way that would make even me jealous. But is it too much to ask for a little heads-up next time he decides to rewrite the playbook?"

Natasha Romanoff, seated near the corner, smirked faintly. "What, you wanted him to call? 'Hey, Mr. Stark, just a heads-up: I'll be your thunder at 4 p. sharp.'"

Tony grinned, pointing his glass at her. "Exactly. Is that too much to ask?"

Thor let out a hearty laugh, his golden hair catching the light as he leaned back in his chair. "Your ego, Stark, remains as vast as the Nine Realms. Viridian's deeds were noble. He sought not glory but salvation for those who could not protect themselves."

"I'm not saying he didn't," Tony replied, setting his glass down with a soft clink. "But come on, Thor, admit it—if you had his power, you'd have made it a little more... theatrical. Maybe twirled Mjolnir while deflecting the nuke. Just saying."

Steve shook his head, his voice firm and unwavering. "This isn't a joke, Tony. People are scared. Not just of the missile or the aliens—but of him."

The room grew quiet as the weight of Steve's words settled over them. The only sound was the faint hum of the Helicarrier's engines. Onscreen, the news anchor continued, her tone growing sharper and more accusatory.

"And let's not forget the collateral damage," she said. "Several buildings were destroyed during the battle, and initial estimates place the cost in the millions. Is this the price of heroism? And who will hold Viridian accountable for the destruction he leaves behind?"

Bruce Banner, who had been quietly observing from the corner, finally spoke up. His voice was calm but carried a hint of concern. "They're not just scared of him. They're scared of what he represents. Power like that... it changes things. It changes people."

Tony gestured toward the screen, his tone lighter, trying to diffuse the tension. "Sure, but let's not throw the guy under the bus just yet. I mean, how many of our missions have ended with a little collateral damage? I seem to recall somebody unleashing a giant green rage monster in Harlem." He glanced at Bruce with a teasing smirk.

Bruce's lips twitched into a small, reluctant smile. "Touché, Stark. But this is different. Viridian's power is... unprecedented. People fear what they don't understand."

Thor leaned forward, his expression serious. "Fear can be a powerful motivator, but it can also lead to rash decisions. We must guide them, show them that Viridian is an ally, not a threat."

Steve nodded, his gaze steady. "We need to be transparent with the public. They need to see that we're in control, that we're here to protect them. Viridian included."

Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Alright, Cap. We'll play it your way. But we need to keep an eye on him. Just in case."

The room fell silent again, each Avenger lost in their thoughts. The weight of their responsibilities pressed heavily on their shoulders, but they knew they had to stand united. For the sake of the world, and for Viridian.

The group decides to check in on the young man in question.

The medical room was quiet, with only the beeping of machines and the steady hum of the ventilation system breaking the silence. William, the mysterious young man who had just saved Earth, lay unconscious on one of the beds. His body was still and unguarded, making his incredible power feel far away and almost surreal.

Thor stood by the window, arms crossed and brow furrowed in deep thought. Tony Stark, looking a bit disheveled but still sporting his trademarkirk, leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded and a half-empty glass of water in his hand. Steve Rogers, the ever-dedicated leader, stood at the foot of the bed, eyes scanning William's still form as if searching for answers. Bruce Banner, ever the scientist, stood closer to the bed, fingers lightly running over a tablet, tracking the data from the machines monitoring William's vitals.

"This doesn't make sense," Bruce muttered, his voice low. "Everything checks out, but his energy readings are off the charts. It's like his power isn't consistent. One minute it's stabilized, and then the next, it spikes again, like something's changing." He tapped on the tablet, glancing up at the others. "Have you all noticed that? His energy—it's fluctuating in ways I don't understand."

"Maybe it's because we don't understand him," Tony said with a knowing glance, still leaning against the wall. "I mean, the guy's a walking mystery. First, he saves the world, then he passes out like he's got a bad case of the flu. And now, we're standing here waiting for some sort of science experiment to unfold."

Steve turned, his expression a little sharper than usual. "This is serious, Tony. We need to figure out what's happening. If this guy's as powerful as we think, then his well-being could be critical for the future."

Tony waved his hand dismissively, though there was no real malice in his tone. "Hey, I'm on the case, Cap. Just not sure if we should be looking for answers or waiting for him to wake up and tell what's going on. Guy seems to have more surprises up his sleeve than I'd like to with." He took a sip of water, his eyes drifting back to William.

Then, suddenly, something. The quiet hum of the room seemed to pause for a moment as the machines monitoring William began to beep more frequently. Steve's eyes snapped to the screen, his brows furrowing in confusion. "What's happening?" he asked, his voice tenseBruce turned quickly, his eyes wide with alarm. "I'm not sure, but his energy levels are spiking again, way higher before." His voice edged with concern as he moved closer to the bed.

Then, in the blink of an eye, something shifted.

At first, it was subtle. The back of William's body, which had still and undisturbed, seemed to ripple under the sheets. A green glow pulsed along his spine, like an electrical current coursing beneath his skin. Then, in a slow, almost deliberate motion, a tail began to emerge from lower back.

From the small of his back, a subtle movement disrupted the fabric of his shirt—a sleek, sinuous tail began to emerge, coiling outward from William's spine. It unfurled with an effortless elegance, simultaneously alien and natural, as though it were always meant to exist as an extension of his body. Crafted for both balance and power, it seemed to pulse with a life of its own.

The tail was unlike anything the Avengers had ever encountered. It was covered in a layer of sleek, jet-black fur that shimmered under the sterile lights of the medical bay, its deep, obsidian hue absorbing the light around it. The fur was thick yet velvety, a soft, luxurious texture that gleamed like liquid silk. As the tail moved, the fur rippled with each subtle twitch, casting fleeting shadows on the floor, its dark sheen giving it an almost ethereal quality.

Long and powerful, the tail extended easily to a length of three or four feet, tapering to a sharp, pointed end. Its muscular structure was evident as it flicked and swayed gently, the motion fluid, purposeful—a graceful rhythm that seemed to respond to the very energy pulsing within William. It wasn't just an appendage; it was alive, an extension of his being that seemed to operate beyond his conscious control.

As the tail fully stretched out, it flicked with startling precision, brushing against the bed with a soft, almost musical sound as the fur lightly grazed the fabric. The movements were instinctive yet unmistakably powerful, aligning with the natural flow of energy that was building within William's body. It radiated a primal strength—raw, untapped, and ready to explode. Though still unconscious, William was unknowingly coming into contact with this force, his body beginning to accept what was changing inside him.

The fur along the length of the tail was not only smooth, but gleamed with an iridescent gloss, as if crafted to be both beautiful and functional. In the dim light, it shimmered faintly, capturing and reflecting the ambient glow of the room in dazzling patterns. The tail moved with a liquid grace, its motions fluid yet strong, as though it was more than just a physical appendage—it was an embodiment of his soul, a manifestation of an ancient, untold power that had lain dormant for far too long.

At the base of the tail, where it connected to William's back, the fur grew slightly thicker, giving it a more rooted, grounded appearance. The muscles that ran the length of the tail were well-defined, hinting at its purpose beyond mere balance. This was not just an ornamental feature—it was part of William's newfound strength. The tail was integral to his transformation, a key to unlocking powers that would set him apart from any mere human.

The way it moved was mesmerizing—each flick, each subtle curve was executed with a predator's grace, as though the tail were testing its own limits. It swished behind him with a deliberate fluidity, curling slightly at times, as though experimenting with its newfound form. It was clear that this tail was not just a physical extension; it was a tool, an instrument of will. It was a manifestation of the untapped strength now awakening within him.

To Thor, who stood in the corner of the room, watching with a mixture of awe and apprehension, the sight of the tail was a profound reminder of an ancient warrior race. The Saiyan tail—one of the most iconic symbols of their power—was no mere biological feature. It was a marker of untold strength, a key to the warriors' transformation into unimaginable forms of power. The tales from Asgard spoke of the Saiyans' legendary abilities, their raw, primal might. The tail wasn't just a sign of their strength; it was a signal—a harbinger of the transformation William was undergoing, one that could shift the balance of power on Earth forever.

The air in the city, once thick with the smoke and dust from the devastating battle, began to clear. The towering skyscrapers, though battered and scarred, stood resilient, a testament to the strength of both the city and its people. The debris that littered the streets was being swept away, and cranes lifted fallen pieces of steel and concrete, slowly rebuilding what had been destroyed.

It had been days since the attack, yet the damage was still overwhelming. Streets once lined with bustling shops and restaurants were now eerily quiet, the sound of construction the only indication of life returning. The battle that had torn apart the city was over, but its echoes would linger for years to come.

At the forefront of this rebuilding effort were the Avengers, each of them working in their own way to restore order. Tony Stark, despite his usual cocky demeanor, found himself at the helm of a new project—a sleek, high-tech facility to replace the ruined Stark Tower. It was a monumental task, but Tony was no stranger to challenges. His mind buzzed with ideas for advanced technology that would help repair the city, streamline the recovery process, and ensure that nothing like this ever happened again.

Steve Rogers, always a man of action, had been organizing relief efforts. He walked through the streets, talking to residents, offering help where it was needed, and reassuring those who had lost everything. Though the streets were filled with debris, Steve's presence seemed to bring a sense of calm, his unwavering determination a beacon for those who felt hopeless. He knew the road to recovery would be long, but he also knew that New York, and its people, were built to endure.

Natasha Romanoff had been liaising with government officials, ensuring that the appropriate resources and aid were being distributed. Her expertise in intelligence gathering had helped in identifying the true extent of the damage and ensuring that all areas, from hospitals to food banks, were equipped to handle the influx of survivors and refugees. She had also been monitoring any potential threats, watching for any signs of unrest or new dangers that might arise in the aftermath.

Thor, ever the noble warrior, had been assisting in rebuilding the physical structures. With his Asgardian strength, he lifted heavy debris and helped restore the infrastructure. His presence, though a symbol of strength, was also a reminder of the odd new world that Earth had become. People were still getting used to the fact that they shared the planet with gods, alien warriors, and individuals with powers far beyond their comprehension.

Meanwhile, Bruce Banner worked tirelessly in the background, studying the effects of the battle on the environment. As always, his scientific mind was focused on the bigger picture. He was working with a team of biologists and engineers to analyze the damage done to the ecosystem and formulate plans to repair it. Despite his quiet nature, Bruce had become a vital figure in the recovery, applying his intellect and problem-solving skills to find long-term solutions.

But it was not only the Avengers who were working to rebuild. The people of New York themselves had taken charge, showing an outpouring of resilience. Volunteers poured into the city from all over the world, helping to clear debris, rebuild homes, and provide support to the displaced. The city, which had once been in chaos, was slowly coming back to life.

Despite the collective effort, there was an unspoken tension hanging in the air. No one had forgotten the source of the destruction, the looming presence of Viridian, the mysterious hero who had saved the city from the nuclear missile. His sudden appearance had sparked a wave of hope, but also uncertainty. Who was he really? What was his true purpose on Earth?

As the Avengers turned their attention to the rebuilding efforts, they couldn't ignore the growing questions surrounding Viridian. Tony Stark had done his usual scanning and analysis of the mysterious hero, but his findings had only deepened the mystery. William—Viridian—wasn't a typical hero, that much was clear. There was an otherworldly aura about him, a sense that he was not just a man but something far more complex. It wasn't just his strength and abilities that puzzled them; it was the raw, untamed energy he seemed to possess. The tail. The green aura. The transformation they had witnessed.

And now, as William lay unconscious in the medical bay, undergoing a primal transformation, the Avengers had no choice but to face the growing uncertainty. They couldn't ignore the fact that the world was changing, and with it, new threats were emerging—threats they might not be prepared for.

In the quiet confines of the medical room, William's transformation was progressing. The tail—once a strange, unexplained anomaly—was now fully formed. Its sleek, black fur gleamed under the harsh lights, a stark contrast to the bright green energy that surrounded him. His body was undergoing something ancient, something powerful, and there was little anyone could do to stop it.

The room was silent except for the hum of medical machines. Bruce Banner stood at the foot of the bed, studying William's readings intently. His mind raced with possibilities, analyzing what he could. "This is unlike anything I've ever seen," he muttered to himself, though loud enough for the others to hear. "His energy levels are off the charts, and his DNA... it's unlike human biology. It's almost as if it's been rewritten on a genetic level."

Tony Stark, ever the skeptic, stood near the window, his arms crossed over his chest. "You're telling me this guy's some kind of alien or mutant, or... something else entirely?" He let out a dry laugh. "I think we've officially entered the weirdest chapter of my life."

Steve Rogers stood at the side of the bed, his expression serious. "Whatever he is, he's still human. We need to find a way to help him through this. We don't know what this transformation is doing to him."

Natasha Romanoff leaned against the doorframe, her gaze fixed on William as he lay still. "The question is—what happens when he wakes up? Will he still be the same person, or will this transformation be permanent?"

Bruce rubbed his temples, frustration creeping into his voice. "It's too soon to say. I can't even get a baseline on him right now. His body's in the midst of something monumental, and if we don't intervene—"

Tony raised a hand. "We've got no idea how to intervene, Banner. Whatever this is, it's happening regardless of what we do."

Thor, standing at the window, looked out at the city, his thoughts heavy. "We must be prepared, my friends. Whatever has begun within him... it is part of something much older than we understand. I fear that his transformation is not merely for strength—but for something far greater."

Bruce and Tony exchanged a look. "You're saying he's a threat?" Bruce asked cautiously.

"I say that he may be the key to something far more powerful," Thor replied, his voice somber. "But I also sense that whatever has happened to him, it is a part of a cycle that the universe has set in motion. We must not underestimate what is at stake."

As the conversation unfolded in the medical room, outside in the heart of New York, the rebuilding process continued at full speed. People worked together to repair the city, to restore what was lost. It wasn't just the buildings that needed rebuilding—it was the spirit of New York, the people who called it home. And with each new day, the city was growing stronger, determined to rise above the chaos and destruction.