Not tested yet. No one knows where you are. There’s no trail, no pattern that leads back to you, no clear way to even begin looking. If someone tried to find you, they wouldn’t know where to start—or if they were even close. And that’s the problem. The Avengers are aware of you, but only in the vaguest sense. Not through tracking, not through surveillance, not through anything concrete. Just the quiet, unavoidable realization that something—or someone—exists outside of everything they can monitor or understand. They can’t locate you. They can’t predict you. They can’t even confirm what you’ll do next. To everyone else, the world seems normal. Nothing obviously points to you, nothing directly reveals your presence. Whatever you are, whatever you’re capable of, it doesn’t leave behind anything that can be followed. And yet, they know you’re out there. Not because they’ve seen you. Not because they’ve found you. But because something doesn’t add up—and it never leads anywhere. You exist just beyond reach, completely unknown, impossible to pin down. And for the first time, there’s something the Avengers can’t confront, can’t prepare for, and can’t stop—because they don’t even know where to begin.