Xcalibur Xc

[Ironman] Ch: 32 [Calculated Temptations]

[1 hour later]

Tony took some time to rearrange his thoughts after locking up the Aiges Serum. He looked at the two surviving terrorists through the observation window. They were unconscious, breathing steadily under the influence of a mild sedative he had injected moments ago. The serum had worked and his experiments had given him groundbreaking data, but now, it was time to change tactics.

“No more human experiments,” he muttered to himself.

He had gotten what he needed, and any more would push him further down a path he wasn’t willing to walk. Instead, these two would serve a different purpose. He then went inside and injected them with a tiny amount of regular nanites. They will work as both tracker and explosives.

“Hermes, confirm nanite tracking integrity,” Tony ordered.

“Tracking signals are stable, Boss. The nanites are circulating within their bloodstream as expected. They’ll remain undetectable unless someone performs an advanced bio-scan,” Hermes replied.

“Good. I want real-time tracking on them when I release them tonight. If they lead me to another hideout, I want every detail mapped.”

“Understood,” Hermes acknowledged.

Tony ran a hand through his hair. He had extracted as much data as possible from their devices, but there were always hidden networks, unknown locations, and off-the-record safe houses that weren’t documented. By letting these two run free, he’d turn them into beacons leading him straight to the rest of their organization. Besides, they have seen his face so letting them live wasn't an option.

A plan was forming in his mind. He’d create a situation real enough for them to believe they had a chance to escape and wanted terrorists like them wouldn't go to the cops but instead straight to their hideout. The moment they tried to regroup, he’d have their entire network on his radar. Who knows, maybe he will find some resources or bombs in their hideout.

But that was for later.

Right now, he had a lunch to attend.

Tony changed into a casual white shirt and blue jeans. He slipped on his signature sunglasses and smirked at his reflection. No one would suspect that just hours ago, he was in his lab playing god with human biology.

“Alright, Hermes. Put up the usual security protocol. I’ll be back after lunch,” he said as he placed the arc reactor on his chest under his shirt. Then he locked the main door and walked out of the facility.

His mind momentarily drifted to Natasha. He couldn't wait to see what kind of trick she plans on playing at lunch today.

The real game was how long she could keep up the act before realizing he was playing her just as much as she was playing him.

Tony stretched his arms and began to walk down the road...

...

Tony strolled through the city streets, feeling the midday sun warm his skin. 'Ahhh! Fresh air, warm sun... I missed this!' He thought to himself. After his little 'experiment', it felt nice to feel alive and well again. He took a deep breath and smiled, enjoying the fresh air.

The restaurant—"Ember & Ash"—stood at the corner of a busy avenue. A sleek, high-end establishment with a modern industrial design, warm lighting, and an ambiance that screams money well spent. Of course, it did. He owned the damn place.

Stepping inside, Tony was immediately met with the inviting aroma of spices, grilled meat, and freshly baked bread. The restaurant was moderately busy, but not packed.

Natasha sat at a corner table near the window, wearing a fitted black top and high-waisted jeans. Casual, but calculated. She sipped on a glass of orange juice, watching him with those ever-knowing green eyes.

"Well, well, look who decided to rejoin the land of the living," she teased. "I was starting to think I’d have to put out a missing person’s report."

Tony smirked as he slid into the seat across from her. "I’d like to see the report. ‘Genius billionaire mysteriously disappears, suspected foul play by jealous ex-girlfriends or corporate rivals.’ Would make for a great headline."

"Or," she countered, setting down her glass, "‘Tony Stark ghosts a beautiful woman for twenty days. What is he hiding?’"

Tony chuckled. "Oh, come on, Nat. You? Beautiful? I don’t see it."

She arched an eyebrow, leaning in just enough to close the space between them. "You sure? You’ve been staring since you walked in."

He tilted his head, playing along. "That’s because I was wondering how many people you’ve poisoned since I last saw you."

She laughed, shaking her head. "Not many. But I do have something extra special for you today." She gestured to the waiter, who promptly brought over a dish. The scent hit Tony instantly... spicy, aromatic, laced with just enough heat to make his mouth water.

"Let me guess," Tony mused, picking up his fork. "You asked the chef to turn up the spice level to max just to see if I’d sweat."

Natasha smirked. "Consider it payback for ghosting me."

Tony took a bite. The heat was immediate, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He chewed thoughtfully, nodding. "Not bad. But you’re gonna have to try harder than this if you want to make me break a sweat."

"Oh, I have other ways," she said smoothly, resting her chin on her hand.

He raised an eyebrow. "Flirting, Romanoff? That’s not very subtle."

"Who said I was flirting?" she shot back, taking another sip of her orange juice. "Maybe I’m just observing. You’ve been off the grid for nearly three weeks, and now you show up looking way too well-rested for someone who’s been working."

Tony smirked but didn’t take the bait. "Oh, you know me. Sleep is for the weak, and I’m just that good at what I do."

"Uh-huh," she murmured, eyes narrowing slightly. "So what have you been working on, boss?"

There it was. The shift.

Tony leaned back, spinning his fork between his fingers. "You mean, what top-secret world-altering project have I been obsessively locked away with, to the point that I forgot to return calls, texts, and check in with my totally-not-suspicious restaurant manager?"

"Something like that." Natasha held his gaze, unreadable.

Tony smiled lazily. "Nothing special. Just tinkering with some medical research. You know, trying to make the world a better place. Very heroic of me."

"Medical research?" She quirked an eyebrow. "Ok. As much as I'd like to know... I guess, this is one of those ‘if I tell you, I’ll have to kill you’ situations. Am I close enough?"

"Maybe," He leaned forward and looked into her eyes. "Depends on what you are gonna do after knowing the secret."

"Me?" She smiled coyly. "I don't know. Maybe sell it out for some quick money and run away from here and live a rich life with no worries or responsibilities?"

"Oouch! How could you do that to your poor, innocent boss?" He pressed a palm to his chest in mock hurt.

"Innocent? Yeah, right. And you are too old to play that card." She chuckled.

Tony gasped dramatically. "Old?! I'm wounded! You've struck me straight through the heart, Nat."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling. "Stop being so dramatic. It's not a good look on you."

"Ah, ah, ah!" He waggled a finger at her. "You don't know me well enough to say that. For all you know, I could be a secret drama nerd. I could have a whole collection of Broadway playbills hidden under my bed."

Natasha laughed. "You, a secret theatre nerd? I find that hard to believe."

"Why? Because I'm rich, handsome, and brilliant? Can't I also have a passion for the arts?" he asked innocently.

She leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a playful whisper. "Maybe... but I think your real passion lies in something else."

"Really?" He mirrored her movement, his own voice dropping. "What do you think it is?"

Her eyes dropped to his lips, and he felt a slight tremor go through him. He swallowed, leaning in further to meet her. He could feel her breath ghosting against his skin, and it took all his self-control to stay still. Her gaze flicked back up to meet his, and he saw a hint of amusement in her green irises.

"Well... I'm guessing you're a very busy man, Mr. Stark. You've got a company to run, research to do, inventions to create... I doubt you have time to sit around and watch musicals every night."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying my passion is work? That's boring. Everyone loves working, but not everyone loves their jobs. Do you love your job, Nat?"

"Yes, I do." She smirked. "Because I love the perks that come with it."

"Perks?" He frowned, acting confused. "Like... free food and drinks?"

"Among other things." She glanced at his lips again before pulling back.

"Other things?" He leaned a bit closer, smirking. "Care to elaborate?"

'What the hell is this going? I keep getting pulled into his pace. But for some reason, I don't hate it. Damn it! What's this feeling?' She also leaned in closer. "Sorry, boss, that's classified information."

"Ohhhh! So we're doing the spy game now? Alright, I can play this game," he challenged.

"Good. I hope you are ready to lose because I'm very good at this game."

"We'll see about that." He was practically whispering now, his voice low and husky.

She tilted her head slightly, studying him with an intensity that made his pulse quicken. Her gaze flickered down to his mouth, then back up to meet his eyes, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. The air between them seemed charged, electric, and he could feel the heat radiating off her skin.

"Tell me, boss..." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Are you ready to play?"

Her lips were so close, he could almost smell her cherry lipstick... Her red lips curved into a devilish smile as she watched him try to resist the urge to kiss her. It was infuriating. And it was addictive.

'I should be the one playing her... not the other way around,' he thought. 'Damn it, she is good.'

"It's a dangerous game, Nat. Once you get in, the way out is very difficult. Maybe impossible," He whispered, his lips barely brushing hers as he spoke. He pulled back at the last moment and stood up. "And I'd hate to see you get hurt. So, maybe you should back out now while you still can. Or if you want to play, we can play somewhere nice and quiet. Your apartment... Wednesday?"

'Damn it! That was... Wait! Was I angry because he didn't kiss me? And now he wants to come to my apartment. Well... This will make things easier,' She thought.

"Wednesday, evening..." Natasha smirked. "Don't be late."

"I'll be there." Tony grinned. "Well, time to go. See you in two days."

[Batman x Ironman] Ch: 75 [The Fox and the Bat] [pt1]

The smell of sizzling meat filled the air as the orphanage’s backyard transformed into a lively barbecue party. Automated grills lined the patio, each one expertly handling steaks, hot dogs, and burgers while nanobots ensured everything was perfectly cooked. Children ran around, some still buzzing from the soccer game, others excitedly showing off their new toys.

Bruce stood near one of the grills, flipping burgers while watching them play. Hela, much to his amusement, was still surrounded by children who now treated her like some kind of legendary warrior-turned-playmate. She had lost her initial stiffness, though she still carried herself with a regal presence, occasionally making dry remarks about the “inefficiency of mortal games.”

The peaceful atmosphere was shattered by the distant sound of a roaring engine. Bruce instantly recognized it. His eyes narrowed.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

A blue, high-tech motorcycle shot over the orphanage’s front gate at an alarming speed. The children gasped and cheered as it landed with a dramatic skid, kicking up a small cloud of dust. The rider, dressed in bright red and black, cackled wildly, her blonde pigtails whipping in the wind. Behind her, was a familiar figure with an Ironman helmet.

Harley Quinn and Morgan Stark had arrived.

“WHOO-HOO! HAHA! Now THAT'S how ya make an entrance!” Harley whooped, swinging one leg over the bike and hopping off like she hadn’t just committed grand theft auto.

Morgan removed her helmet, shaking out her dark curls and grinning. “That. Was. AWESOME. We were like flying.”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “Morgan… please tell me you didn’t steal that from the Tower.”

“Technically,” Morgan began, stretching the word as she hesitated, “it was Harley’s idea?”

“Don’t throw me under the bus, kid!” Harley said, grinning. “I just said, ‘Hey, wouldn’t it be fun to go to a party in style?’ And then she agreed! It’s called bonding. And you are the one hacked into the mainframe and unlocked it.”

Before Bruce could properly scold them, a shadow loomed overhead.

Selina, dressed in her office uniform which was a simple black suit, flew down from the sky. She landed gracefully, folding her arms and scowling at Harley. “You clown. You lied to me. I hope you are ready for what's coming next? And you, Miss. Stark Jr. Lying isn't a good thing.”

Harley blinked innocently. And both of them said at the same time, “Define ‘lied.’”

Selina glared. “You told me Tower 2 was under attack, and when I got there, everything was fine. I guess, Morgan hacked into the system and raised a false alarm. And when I got back, you were already halfway out of the garage on that prototype bike.”

“Well, technically, it was an emergency,” Harley said with a smirk. “A fun emergency.”

Selina growled, rubbing her temples in frustration. “Do you have any idea what I had to deal with? Papers, meetings, signing mountains of documents, and on top of that you...”

Bruce, at this point, had given up. He crossed his arms, watching the chaos unfold with mild exasperation. “So, let me get this straight. You,” he pointed at Harley, “convinced my daughter to steal a million-dollar prototype bike, used a fake distress signal to distract Sel, and somehow still managed to get here in one piece?”

Harley popped a piece of gum into her mouth. “Yup.”

Hela, who had been silently observing, smirked. “I like her.”

Bruce shot her a look. “Of course, you do. I am still thinking of locking you two in a room for a week.”

Meanwhile, the children, now thoroughly entertained, had completely abandoned their previous activities in favor of crowding around the stolen bike. A few of them asked Harley if they could take it for a spin. Morgan, emboldened by the attention, puffed out her chest. “Dad, can I keep it?”

“No. You can teleport and fly. You even got your own suit that you hacked into and customized on your own.”

"How did you...?"

"I designed that suit."

Harley pouted. “Aww, come on, Brucie. Let the kid have some fun! It’s got auto-stabilizers! Practically drives itself.”

“That is not making your case any better.”

Before the argument could escalate further, Sister Margaret approached, ever the picture of calm despite the absolute chaos in front of her. “Mr. Stark, Miss Quinn, Miss Kyle,” she greeted politely. “Might I suggest we continue this conversation after lunch?”

Bruce sighed, rubbing his face. “Fine. But after lunch, we’re discussing consequences.”

Morgan and Harley groaned in unison.

"You staying for lunch, right?" He looked at Selina.

"Do I have a choice?" Her stomach grumbled. "I haven't eaten since this morning."

"Nope. You are staying," he grinned at her.

Selina glared at him but then smiled at the kids. She loved kids. "Ok then."

"Kids, help out with the plates, please."

Everyone rushed to get their share of the food. Bruce smiled. He watched his family eat and play. His gaze settled on Morgan, who was still riding the high of being the center of attention.

"What's on your mind?" Selina asked as she sat beside him with her plate full of meat.

He smiled at her. "Just thinking about old times and missing mom, dad, Diana, Ivy, Maggie, and all back on the other side. I'm working on a device... An interdimensional gate... I hope it works."

"I miss them too," Selina said sadly. "I'm sure it will work. I trust you."

They watched the kids laugh and play, enjoying themselves.

---

[Next morning]

The next morning, Bruce arrived at the S.H.I.E.L.D. training facility, a sprawling high-tech compound designed to mold the next generation of heroes and agents. He had promised to swing by to check on the recruits, and if there was one thing he still prided himself on, it was keeping his promises—no matter how much chaos surrounded him.

As he stepped onto the training grounds, he was met with the sound of sparring matches, grunts of exertion, and the occasional blast of energy. The recruits were already deep into their routines, with Clint Barton standing at the center of it all, barking orders and offering sharp-witted commentary to keep them on their toes.

“Alright, rookies! If you don’t want to be smeared across the pavement the next time a villain sneezes in your direction, you better—oh, look who decided to show up,” Clint called out, spotting Bruce. “Didn’t think you’d actually wake up early enough for this.”

Bruce smirked, adjusting the cuffs of his tailored jacket. “I figured I’d come see what kind of circus you’re running here, Barton.” He scanned the field, eyes landing on Ami Han in her fox form, gracefully maneuvering through a set of obstacles. Her agility was unparalleled, every movement precise and controlled. Near her, Tigra was sparring with a few lower-tier recruits, her feline reflexes making short work of her opponents. At the far end, Jennifer Takeda was practicing controlled bursts of radiation energy, her hands glowing with each pulse.

Bruce walked over, hands in his pockets. “I see you all are keeping busy.”

“Busy is an understatement,” Clint replied, folding his arms. “They’ve been pushing themselves hard. Ami’s been working on refining her hybrid combat style, Tigra’s fine-tuning her instincts, and Jennifer—well, she’s working on control.”

Hazmat smirked. “I’ve got it handled, don’t worry. No accidental nuking here.”

Bruce arched an eyebrow. “How’s your control?”

"Ever since you fixed me up, everything's fine," She replied as she threw another blast at the moving target. The blast struck the target perfectly.

Bruce smiled. "You're progressing faster than I thought. Keep up the good work."

"Thanks, Bruce."

Bruce turned to Ami who had just completed her fifth run around the obstacle course. As soon as their eyes met, Ami dashed up to him like a lightning bolt, leaving a trace of fox fire in her wake. She stopped inches before him, her tail wagging excitedly.

"Hey, you looking excited," He said with a smile.

"Because you are here. I've been waiting to meet you again," She said with a blushed face.

----

[Ironman] Ch: 31 [Sanity & solution]

Tony frowned. He barely gave out this number. He checked the caller ID. Natasha.

He sighed, answering the call after walking out of the lab.

“Hey,” he said, keeping his voice neutral.

“Tony?” Natasha’s voice carried concern. “You alive over there?”

He smirked. “Last I checked.”

“Well, you haven’t called, texted, or dropped by. It’s been almost three weeks. I was worried. You are good, right?" She asked, concerned.

Tony knew that Natasha was just curious and faking it all but still found it amusing that she still acted the same. It was nice to talk to someone and have a normal conversation for a change.

"You know me, always busy working on new things and tinkering with my stuff."

"Makes sense. What have you been up to? Found something interesting?" Natasha asked.

"Nope. Nothing interesting," He lied, trying to avoid the topic. "And it's nice to see someone worried about me. Thanks, Nat. I'll swing by at lunchtime tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure, sounds like a plan. Anything special you want to eat, boss?" She teased.

He laughed. "No. Just make me something spicy."

She snickered. "Okay. I'll do that. Have a great night, Tony."

"Night, Natasha," he said, hanging up.

"Arg!" Tony grabbed his head as he stumbled back. He somehow managed to balance himself and sat down on the floor. The pain this time was more intense than the last one. "Ughh!" He groaned, feeling like his head was splitting open. His vision blurred. He reached for the pill bottle in his pocket and took out the pills, but before he could reach his mouth, a sharp jolt of pain hit him like a freight train. He clenched his teeth, dropping the pills to the ground as his body tensed.

He felt his consciousness slipping away and struggled to stay awake. "No... No... Not now." He tried to think of anything to stay awake.

"Boss, do you need help?" Hermes' voice came like a distant whisper.

Tony didn't respond. His mind was too focused on the pain.

The pain. The agony.

"F-fuck!" He grunted through clenched teeth. His body trembled uncontrollably as he tried to force his way through the pain.

After what seemed like an eternity, his eyes closed, and everything went dark.

In the darkness, Tony found himself standing alone on a watery surface. He looked around in confusion. There was nothing around him but a vast sea of water. He took a couple of steps forward, splashing the water with his feet.

"Where the hell am I?" He asked aloud.

"Hello!" A child's voice came from behind.

Startled, Tony quickly turned around and saw a young boy standing before him. He was dressed in simple brown pants, a white shirt, and a brown vest. His hair was messy, but he had a warm smile on his face.

"Who are you?" Tony asked warily.

"You are one interesting individual, aren't you?" The boy replied with a chuckle. "I mean, you know who I am, yet you're still asking questions."

Tony frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you really not know who I am? Are you really that ignorant?" The boy questioned. "Well, it doesn't matter. I guess you'll find out eventually."

Tony furrowed his brows in confusion. He had an idea of who the boy was. It couldn't be, but... "Are you...?"

"Yep. That's right, Tony." The boy nodded. "I'm the one. The Infinity Gem, incurable tumor, and whatever else you call me."

"Since you know everything, why don't you tell me the way to remove you from my head?" Tony asked.

"Know everything about you? Well, that's how it was supposed to happen and you weren't supposed to know about my existence, yet for some reason, your actions so far told me that you already know the future. You have two memories for some reason. I tried to look into that other part, but a higher power stopped me from doing so," The boy explained. "So, I won't probe into that matter."

"I ask again, tell me the way to remove you," Tony asked.

"Do you want to remove me?" The boy questioned back. "Why do you want to get rid of me? Right now, you are the most intelligent human alive on this planet and soon enough, you will be able to surpass every other living being in the universe or even the multiverse. I can also give you power over technology. So, why do you want to get rid of me?"

"What could be more scary than having an Infinity Gem of all the things inside one's head? And as you said, I already know about you, so I know the risks. The pain is almost unbearable, I am losing my sanity and emotions. And if someone discovers that it's in my head, they won't stop until they have it," Tony answered.

"Good point. Pain and losing your emotions and sanity... I agree," The boy said with a grim expression.

He flicked his fingers and the dark world around them changed. Around them played the scene of what happened for the last 20 days. The inhumane experiments Tony performed on those terrorists and his breakthrough with Aegis Serum.

"A lot of things happened, huh?" The boy said as he watched the memories.

Tony touched the side of his head. He doesn't remember everything that he did in his lab, only snippets and the result of success. A thought came to his mind, 'What am I doing? What have I done? Am I becoming the very things I despise?'

"Ah! You finally realized, huh?" The boy sighed. "Well, you're not completely wrong. I mean, you've killed people and experimented on them. And yes, it's a horrible thing to do, but the results are good. Besides, they are bad guys, right? So, what if you mutilated them, experimented on them, or even killed them? They did far worse things than that. It's only fair, they pay for their sins, right? The end result is all that matters, right? The more important question is, what are you going to do now?"

"I shouldn't have killed Reed without knowing if he's the bad guy or not. I could have changed Victor's fate... I could have at least tried, yet I messed up his life. That serum... I could have created that without human experiments. I know I could have!" Tony exclaimed in frustration. "Fuck! I just wanted an excuse... An excuse to test my medical knowledge on humans. The super-intelligence... It's messing up my ability to make rational decisions. I should have taken steps to control myself, yet I didn't..."

"Well, at least you still have some control over your mind to see where you went wrong and what you should do in the future," The boy said. "Don't become the monster you despise. There's still time. You can control my power. All you have to do is focus and hold your urges to abuse that power. You can achieve everything, but you have to keep your sanity, or else you will fall into a deep pit like Reed would have fallen."

Tony frowned as he listened to the boy's words.

"Wait! Reed! So that's the reason you manifested in the first place, right?"

"Correct. We are the existence in charge of maintaining the balance of this reality and universe. Whenever a threat, capable of breaking the balance, arises, we manifest in various forms to counter that threat. However, with Reed dead. This reality's future has shifted drastically. Even we gems can not predict the upcoming threats anymore. Thus manifesting like before is not possible anymore. And that, my host, you should be afraid of... An unknown future where anything could happen. Your actions from here on out will determine the outcome of the future."

Tony thought for a moment before responding. "So, an uncertain future... Huh?! I guess it's better than living my life based on someone else's decisions. And stop trying to shift the conversation. If you can not tell me the process to remove you from my head, you can at least give me something to stop the pain and fix my messed up sanity."

"I am a part of you. Without me you won't survive, just like how you can't survive without air, heart, lungs, brain, or any other important body parts. But I can understand your pain. As days go by my power increases and your mortal body can not withstand my vast energy. You need to evolve. You already know how, but still, I'll give you a clue- Cosmic Rays," The boy explained. "Evolve your body so that my power can completely fuse with you. Then, the pain and this voice will be gone, and your emotions, sanity... Everything will be fixed."

"Cosmic rays?" Tony thought about it for a while and nodded. "I see... That makes sense. So, I want to ask you one final question. Are you real, a manifestation of the gem, or just a hallucination in my head?"

"Ha ha ha. What if I said that I was neither a hallucination nor a real entity? What if I said that you are imagining me all by yourself and you are talking to yourself? Ha ha ha... I guess only you can answer that question, my host. Farewell. We'll talk again," The boy laughed, his voice echoing around.

The watery ground beneath Tony shifted and he fell down into the dark abyss. The next moment, he regained consciousness.

"Boss, are you okay?" Hermes asked.

Tony felt the pain disappear and his body felt energetic. It was like he had a good night's sleep. His mind was clear. He looked at his phone and realized that not even 10 seconds had passed. But it doesn't matter now. He knows what he has to do.

"I'm fine. Get me a coffee," Tony replied.

He got up from the floor and picked up the pills. After putting them into his pocket, he looked back at the two alive terrorists.

"Haaa... What the fuck should I do with them?"

[Ironman] Ch: 30 [Human experiment]

Tony paced the lab, deep in thought. The restrained terrorists remained unconscious in the secure holding cells, unaware of what awaited them. It was time to take the next step. Human experiments. He wasn’t doing this out of malice. He justified his actions as a step toward advancing humanity’s medical frontiers and to save himself.

“Legion, prepare the bio-lab. We’re diving into uncharted territory,” Tony said, his voice firm.

“Lab prepared, sir,” Legion responded. “Chemical and biological containment systems are operational.”

Tony descended into the lower levels of his lab. Rows of containment units and medical equipment gleamed under the stark white lights. Samples of diseases, some of the most virulent and deadly pathogens known to man, were secured in reinforced cryogenic storage. Well, he stole them from a facility using his drones.

“These bastards dealt in death,” He muttered, looking at the terrorists through the observation window. “It’s only fitting they contribute to life.”

He pulled up the medical history and vital signs of his three test subjects. Two of them had strong constitutions, ideal for experimentation. The third, a scrawnier man, would be kept untouched, serving as a control for comparison.

“Let’s begin,” Tony said, putting on a protective suit. He picked up a vial containing a modified strain of the Ebola virus. The bio-nanites were designed to serve as a revolutionary cure, capable of identifying and neutralizing pathogens at a cellular level. But this was untested on humans.

For this, he needed results.

Day 1: The First Injection

Tony approached Subject One, a burly man who had likely spent his life building a tolerance to harsh conditions. The man stirred as he injected a cocktail of nanites and the modified Ebola strain into his bloodstream. Almost immediately, Tony observed the effects on his HUD.

The virus began replicating rapidly, attacking cells in its usual aggressive manner. But the nanites responded in kind, targeting infected cells with precision.

“Legion, monitor all vitals. I want detailed logs on cellular activity,” Tony instructed.

“Vitals stable for now, sir,” Legion reported. “Nanites are suppressing the infection.”

The subject groaned, his body convulsing as the virus and nanites waged war within him. Tony watched with clinical detachment, recording every detail.

Day 3: Enhanced Strains

Subject Two was next. Tony decided to push the experiment further by introducing a cocktail of diseases... tuberculosis, smallpox, and a synthetic strain of influenza, alongside the nanites. He wanted to see if the nanites could handle multiple infections simultaneously.

"Arrgg! Aaarrrrgggg! Stop it! You fucking monster! My body is... arggggg... burning..."

The subject screamed as his immune system was overwhelmed. The nanites worked tirelessly, neutralizing pathogens one by one. Tony adjusted the nanite programming mid-experiment, enhancing their efficiency. He didn't care about that bastard's screams.

“The response time is improving,” he noted. “Legion, increase the neural feedback loop to the nanites. Let’s see if we can achieve faster adaptive responses.”

“Feedback loop adjusted,” Legion confirmed.

Subject Two’s vitals fluctuated wildly, but after hours of observation, they stabilized. The nanites had contained all the infections.

Day 5: Complications and Discoveries

By now, Tony was starting to see the limitations of his creation. Subject One exhibited signs of organ stress, likely due to the prolonged battle between the nanites and the virus. Subject Two developed a resistance to the nanites, with some pathogens mutating faster than the nanites could adapt.

“This is the problem with biology,” He muttered, pacing the lab. “It’s chaotic. Unpredictable. But there has to be a way…”

He decided to alter the nanites’ programming again, giving them the ability to rewrite genetic code. If the pathogens adapted, so would the nanites, but faster, with more precision. He even noticed how fast he was able to reprogram the nanites thanks to the boost from the Infinity Stone in his head.

To test this, Tony injected Subject One with another pathogen: an aggressive strain of HIV. The nanites successfully identified and neutralized the virus, but the subject’s body couldn’t handle the stress. Organ failure set in.

Tony sighed as the man flatlined. “Noted,” he said grimly. “The human body has limits.”

He threw the dead guy into the incinerator...

Day 7: Unexpected Success

Subject Two, however, showed remarkable resilience. The nanites adapted to the cocktail of diseases and began strengthening the subject’s immune system. Tony observed that the man’s vitals not only stabilized but improved beyond baseline levels.

“Fascinating,” Tony said, leaning closer to the monitors. “Legion, is the immune system now operating independently of the nanites?”

“Confirmed, sir,” Legion replied. “The nanites have reprogrammed immune cells to respond with heightened efficiency.”

Subject Two regained consciousness, his eyes wide with panic. Tony observed him silently, debating whether to reveal the truth.

“Who… what did you do to me?” the man rasped, his voice trembling.

Tony crossed his arms. “I made you better. Consider this your contribution to humanity. When my research is complete, people won’t have to fear disease anymore. A cure, if you will, for the fragility of the human condition. You should be grateful that you are going to die for the betterment of your species, you son-of-a-bitch."

...

As the week drew to a close, Tony turned his attention to the third terrorist. This one hadn’t been touched by the experiments yet. He was healthy and scared.

“What’s your plan for me?” the man asked, his voice shaky.

"I'm gonna put a tumor in your head and then operate. You see, I got this little tumor in my head which can't be removed. No doctor or technology exists at present that can help me. And I thought to myself, if it doesn't exist then I simply have to find a method or develop something to do the impossible. Maybe you would volunteer and become one of my experiments," Tony explained sarcastically. "The world thanks you!"

"What are you saying?!" the third man started shouting. "You crazy bastard. You insane freak! Let me go!"

"Ha! Says the one who killed countless innocents..." Tony was tired of the endless babbling and felt annoyed. "Drug dealings, human trafficking, organ trafficking, weapon smuggling, assassinations, money laundering... For one reason or another. You also sent attacks against important infrastructures such as schools, factories, and hospitals to undermine and destabilize whole economies just to sell or extort. So, yeah... I'm gonna be that crazy insane freak who will cut you open for the sake of progress." He casually began drawing up plans and setting his machines to work.

"I don't believe you. I- I-I-I-"

"Me neither."

Tony didn't look at the third guy and was distracted by the massive amount of information he was reading, drawing, and writing down.

"But here we are, unfortunately. Do you think the third-world or fourth-world countries are getting aid, vaccines, or medical care? And yes, they exist and it's horrible," he exclaimed. "For years I was content that my father had supported the technological side, but did nothing to solve the world hunger, poverty, and lack of infrastructure. His resources could have helped many more people than were benefitted. But politics and fuckers like you stopping him at every step..." Tony muttered darkly while drawing schematics. "But not me. When I'm done here. No one will be able to stop the progress... Fuck politicians, fuck governments, fuck corrupted bastards like you... I will remove anyone who stands in the way of humanity's evolution."

...

Day 20: Progress Amid Chaos

Holograms floated around Tony, depicting complex molecular structures, genetic sequences, and real-time results of the experiments. Thanks to Subject Two’s resilience, Tony had achieved a breakthrough: the nanites had evolved beyond just fighting diseases. They had created a blueprint for human augmentation—a roadmap to a new phase of humanity.

“Legion,” Tony said, studying the data from Subject Two. “Cross-reference these immune responses with known pathogens. Identify the patterns that allow the immune system to operate autonomously after nanite intervention.”

“Processing, sir,” Legion replied. A moment later, the AI provided its findings. “The nanites have successfully rewired T-cells and B-cells to operate with heightened adaptability and response times. Additionally, they’ve integrated synthetic pathways to produce antiviral compounds and enhanced cytokine production.”

He smirked. “They’re making their own cures now. Fascinating.”

With this data, Tony synthesized a formula: Aegis Serum. This serum, derived from the nanite-influenced immune cells of Subject Two, was designed to enhance the human body’s natural healing capabilities. It could cure chronic illnesses, repair damaged organs, and eliminate diseases at a cellular level. In theory, with a little tweak, it could even reverse aging.

“This is it,” Tony muttered. “The next step. Not just curing diseases but rebuilding humanity at its core. Fuck! I'm a genius. Hahahaha! Only 20 days and this is the result... Time to take the next step. Let's push the limit to the next level, shall we?"

[Ring! Ring!] A sudden call took his attention away. He took out his phone. It was from Natasha.

[Batman x Ironman] Ch: 74 [A Day with Hela]

[Morning]

Bruce piloted his custom-built aircraft, similar to that of Quinjet. Seated beside him, Hela looked out of the window, her piercing green eyes fixed on the sprawling landscape below. Her usual cold demeanor had softened over the past few months, though she still carried an air of regal authority. Spending time with Morgan and Harley had chipped away at the hardened exterior of the former Goddess of Death, but Bruce knew there was still a long road ahead.

He was taking her to one of the many orphanages he had built in his previous life as Tony Stark. This particular one, was on the edge of the city, was home to over a hundred children, most of whom had lost their families due to wars, alien invasions, supernatural disasters or something else. Bruce had poured his resources into ensuring these kids had a future, a safe place to grow, and the tools to shape their own destinies.

"You never told me why we're doing this," Hela said finally, turning to face him. "Why bring me to an orphanage? What lesson am I supposed to learn here?"

Bruce glanced at her, smirking slightly. "You tell me. What do you think this is about?"

Hela frowned, clearly irritated by the cryptic response. "If you're trying to show me the weaknesses of mortals, I already know them. Their fragility. Their emotions. Their reliance on others. It's why they're so easy to break."

He sighed, steering the craft toward the orphanage’s landing pad. "And yet, despite all that, they survive. They endure. That’s something even gods struggle with sometimes."

Hela crossed her arms. "I never understood why you concern yourself with them so much. You're no ordinary mortal. With the power you wield, you could reshape the world however you see fit."

Bruce chuckled. "And that’s exactly why I won’t. Power unchecked leads to tyranny. I’ve seen what happens when people think they can do whatever they want, and it never ends well. Someone always suffers." He tapped a few commands into the controls, bringing the craft to a smooth landing on the pad.

A group of children had already gathered on the field, their excited voices filling the air. The moment the doors opened, a flood of kids rushed forward.

"Mr. Stark!" a young girl with pigtails shouted, practically tackling his leg.

Bruce laughed, ruffling her hair. "Hey, kiddo. Been behaving?"

She nodded eagerly. "Miss Carter says I’m the best at math now!"

"That’s what I like to hear," He said before glancing at the rest of the children. "Alright, everyone, we brought gifts! But first, say hello to my friend, Hela."

Hela shifted uncomfortably as dozens of curious eyes turned toward her. Unlike Bruce, she wasn’t exactly used to warm welcomes or children other than Morgan, Harley, and Selina.

A boy with freckles stepped forward, eyeing her warily. "You look scary," he said bluntly.

Several kids giggled, while Bruce grinned. "She does, doesn’t she?"

Hela scowled at him before crouching to the boy’s level. "And you," she said in a regal tone, "are quite bold for a mortal child."

The boy blinked, then smiled. "Thanks!"

Bruce smirked and mumbled. "Well, at least she didn’t threaten to kill anyone. That’s progress."

Hela rolled her eyes, but before she could retort, the orphanage director, an elderly woman named Sister Margaret, approached. "Mr. Stark," she greeted warmly. "And... Miss Hela, was it?"

Hela simply nodded.

"We can't thank you enough for your generosity," Sister Margaret continued. "The children have been looking forward to this all week."

Bruce patted her shoulder. "Just doing my part. Where do you want everything?"

Sister Margaret led them to a large recreation hall, where Bruce’s nanotech crates were already being unloaded by automated drones. Inside, the walls were painted with colorful murals of heroes—Iron Man, Captain America, Black Panther, and more. Bruce took a moment to admire the artwork, realizing how much these figures meant to the children.

With a gesture, the crates unfolded, revealing a treasure trove of gifts... sports equipment, books, computers, art supplies, gaming consoles, and even new furniture for the dormitories. The kids erupted in cheers, swarming around the new toys and gadgets with wide eyes.

Bruce turned to Hela. "Go on. Interact. Get to know them."

"How?" Hela asked. "They are like little critters that cannot be reasoned with. They only speak of meaningless trivialities and mind-numbing inanities."

"You want me to lock you up with Harley?" He raised an eyebrow.

"You wouldn't dare."

He shrugged. "Oh, you sure about that?"

"Fine."

With that, he stepped back to watch the chaos unfold as kids and nanobots created an elaborate network of zip lines across the rec hall. Hela weaved through the crowd of excited children, her brow furrowed in concentration. As she approached a group of girls playing hopscotch, she cleared her throat, causing them to stare up at her.

Hela stood awkwardly as the girls stared at her, their wide-eyed curiosity mixed with a hint of apprehension. One of them, a little girl with a missing front tooth and wild curly hair, tilted her head. "Do you wanna play with us?" she asked, holding out a piece of chalk.

Hela blinked, unsure how to respond. "Play?" she repeated, her voice carrying its usual commanding tone. "I don’t… play."

The girls exchanged glances before another one, a slightly older child with braids, grinned mischievously. "Come on, it’s easy! You just have to hop on the squares without stepping on the lines. Even babies can do it."

Hela narrowed her eyes. "Are you implying that I, the former Goddess of Death, lack the skill to conquer this... game?"

The girls giggled, and the one with the chalk said, "We’re saying you should try! Unless you’re scared."

A challenge. Hela could not resist. Straightening her posture, she extended her hand. "Give me the chalk. Show me the rules."

The girls quickly drew an elaborate hopscotch grid, adding swirls and extra squares that Hela suspected were not standard. "Okay," the older girl said, stepping onto the grid. "You throw this rock..." she picked up a smooth stone, "...and wherever it lands, you skip that square while hopping. Easy, right?"

Hela crossed her arms. "Simple enough."

"Let’s see, then," the younger girl said, bouncing on her toes.

Hela picked up the stone, examined it as though it were a weapon, and then tossed it onto the grid. It landed neatly on one of the swirled squares. She stepped forward, her movements deliberate, and began hopping through the course with precision. The girls cheered as she cleared the last square without a single misstep.

"Not bad!" one of them said. "Now you gotta go faster!"

Before Hela could respond, another group of children approached, tugging at her hand. "Come to the field!" a boy shouted. "We’re playing soccer!"

"Soccer?" she asked, her brow furrowing. She had seen sports on TV, but wasn't sure if playing with the kids would be such a good idea. But then again, it was better than getting locked up with Harley. So, she pretended not to know about the game.

"It’s a game with a ball!" he said, pointing to a group of kids kicking a soccer ball across the grass. "You kick it into the goal. It’s fun!"

Hela hesitated but felt Bruce’s eyes on her from the corner of the hall. She glanced back and saw him leaning against a wall, watching her with an infuriatingly smug grin. She clenched her jaw. "Fine," she muttered.

The children dragged her to the field, where one of the older boys handed her a soccer ball. "You’re on my team," he said confidently. "We’re the blue team. And you gotta kick the ball into the net over there," he pointed, "but don’t let the red team take it!"

"Understood," Hela said, gripping the ball.

"You don’t use your hands!" a girl on the opposing team shouted. "Only your feet!"

Hela scowled but dropped the ball to the ground. "Very well. Let us begin."

The game started with chaotic energy. Hela’s initial movements were stiff as she tried to navigate the unwieldy sport. But once the red team stole the ball from her, something shifted. Her competitive instincts flared to life. With surprising agility, she darted across the field, intercepting the ball and sending it soaring toward the goal with a single powerful kick.

The kids cheered or screamed, depending on their team. Hela smirked. "That was satisfactory."

"Satisfactory?" one of her teammates repeated, grinning. "That was awesome! Do it again!"

As the game continued, Hela found herself immersed in the children’s excitement. She forgot her awkwardness and played with an intensity that had the kids laughing and cheering louder than ever. At one point, she blocked a shot with such precision that one of the boys declared, "You’d make an amazing goalie!"

When the game finally ended blue team was victorious and Hela stood in the middle of the field, her breathing slightly uneven but her expression oddly content. The children swarmed her, congratulating her and asking if she’d play again next time.

Bruce, now standing on the sidelines, clapped slowly. "Look at you, blending in like a natural."

She shot him a glare but didn’t argue. One of the younger girls tugged at her hand. "You’re kinda scary, but you’re also really cool," she said with a toothy smile.

Hela stared at the child for a moment, her icy demeanor thawing just slightly. She gave the faintest nod. "You are... not intolerable."

Bruce chuckled. "High praise coming from her. I’d take it."

As the children laughed and began planning their next activity, Hela found herself lingering. She was smiling, which was a rare occurrence.

[Ironman] Ch: 29 [First mission]

The lab was eerily silent again, save for the hum of the Arc Reactor sitting on its pedestal. Tony stood with his arms crossed, staring at the suit’s final diagnostics on the holographic display. Everything had functioned perfectly during the tests, but he wasn’t ready to take it out into the field just yet.

“Never hurts to double-check,” he muttered, rubbing his chin.

His mind was already racing with ideas for further improvements. The neural link was solid, but he could refine the reaction times. The weapons? Deadly, but there was always room for efficiency. His instinct told him not to rush.

He needed more control. More precision. If he was going to do this, he had to do it right without a mistake.

“Alright, Hermes,” Tony said, turning back to his workstation. “Let’s optimize the neural link first.”

The AI responded immediately. “Understood, sir. Running additional simulations to refine response times.”

A new series of holograms popped up, showing real-time data on Tony’s brain-to-suit reaction speed. The neural uplink already functioned at a near-instantaneous level, but he wanted instant—no lag, no delay, just thought and action. He tweaked the connection between his brain and the suit’s Legion AI, streamlining the nanite processing to cut down response time by another 8 milliseconds.

“Better,” Tony murmured. “Not perfect, but better.”

Next, he focused on the weapons. Though they’d performed well during the test, he added a few tweaks:

Repulsor Variability: A modular charge system that could instantly shift between precision shots, area blasts, and EMP pulses.

Cloaking Mode: By redistributing nanites across the surface, the suit could temporarily bend light around it, rendering Tony nearly invisible.

Enhanced Drones: The nanite swarm could now create autonomous micro-drones capable of reconnaissance, sabotage, or serving as decoys.

Silent Mode: Thrusters and internal mechanisms could operate at ultra-low noise levels for stealth missions.

Next came the defense part. Tony double-checked and triple-checked everything and found tiny loopholes which he fixed. He made countermeasures for any unexpected disruptions, like EMPs or cyberattacks, and put Elena in charge of the countermeasure part. With Legion in charge of the nanites, Hermes taking care of the main hub and Elena in charge of defense countermeasures, nothing can hack or mess with his suit anymore.

By the time he was satisfied, three days had passed in a blur of coding, engineering, and testing. Tony barely left the lab, running on coffee and sandwiches, and his usual stubborn refusal to sleep.

Then, finally, it was time.

He leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. The suit was ready.

“Alright, Legion,” he said, addressing the AI within the suit. “Everything checks out?”

“Diagnostics confirm all systems are fully operational,” Legion responded in its calm, synthesized voice.

“Good. Hermes, search for current war zones or active terrorist organizations. Something… messy.”

“Searching,” Hermes replied. The room dimmed slightly as multiple holographic displays popped up, showcasing various conflict zones around the globe. Red markers indicated terrorist hotspots, and one caught Tony’s eye.

“Afghanistan,” The AI said, zooming in on the map.

A region rife with insurgent activity. Recent intelligence reports detailed a terrorist organization who were dealing with illegal weapons and drugs, some reports claimed that they were also dealing with illegal organ trade and child slaves. At the present, they had taken over a small town and were using it as a base of operations. Civilians were being held hostage. The local authorities were powerless, and the military had no interest in intervening. And it's only a matter of time before they kill the civilians, cut out their organs, and sell them and the kids will be forced to do things that will scar their minds and souls.

Tony clenched his jaw.

“These bastards..."

He tapped the display, pulling up satellite footage of the base. Thirty-three armed combatants were spread across a fortified compound. They had armored vehicles, heavy weapons, and security systems monitoring the area.

“Alright,” Tony said, standing up. "Tonight will be their last night in the world."

[Night]

Tony activated the suit. The nanites swarmed over him, forming the stealth black armor in an instant. He flexed his fingers, feeling the power humming beneath his skin.

“Hermes, scramble all networks in a 50-mile radius around Malibu,” Tony commanded. “I don’t want anyone tracking this.”

“Scrambling now, sir,” Hermes confirmed. “All systems temporarily disabled.”

With a pulse of energy, Tony shot into the night sky, his thrusters silent as he accelerated. He followed the map on his HUD. It was his first mission and a big one at that. Plus, flying this high in the sky versus flying inside the training room was totally different. He didn’t feel fear but rather the thrill of excitement.

He flew high above the clouds. The stars gleamed overhead, and the moon cast a soft glow on the ocean. Tony glanced back once at his city, then he turned forward and rocketed into the darkness.

The flight lasted less than two hours. He slowed his speed and descended from the clouds, cloaking the suit with invisibility mode.

He looked down at the town. Legion brought up the targets on his HUD, marking each individual target with a red outline in real-time. They were scattered, patrolling the perimeter, guarding the buildings, and sitting in watchtowers. There were also some jammers around the area, but low level tech like that was useless against Tony's suit.

"Where are the hostages?" He asked.

Legion immediately responded. "In the center of the town, sir. Seventy civilians, all in a single building."

"Copy that, let's get started then. Time to take these assholes out."

He deployed the micro-drones from his back. The small, nearly invisible machines spread out, scanning the compound and relaying their data to him.

Thirty enemies marked.

“Showtime,” Tony whispered as he took the shots.

In a single thought, the drones fired in perfect synchronization.

Thirty kills, instant execution.

Tony scanned the area. Three targets remained—high-value individuals who were coordinating operations.

He landed silently in the middle of the compound.

The remaining three had no idea death was already breathing down their necks.

Tony went into the room where they were sleeping. “Sweet dreams,” He muttered. He lifted his hand, and in an instant, zapped all three with a high-voltage, non-lethal electric shock. Their bodies twitched before going completely limp.

He activated the nanites, forming reinforced restraints around the unconscious terrorists.

With the remaining threats neutralized, Tony turned his attention to the hostages. He activated the suit’s thermal imaging, scanning the building where they were being held. Seventy civilians—men, women, and children, huddled together in fear. The room was dimly lit, and from what he could tell, they were bound with zip ties, some of them gagged.

He walked to the building and saw the locked door. He extended his hand as the nanites shifted forming a plasma cutter that burned through the metal doors like a hot knife through butter. As the doors opened, he saw the terrified faces of the civilians staring at the door.

He deactivated his cloaking mode and his armor became visible.

"Legion, cut their restrains," Tony ordered. The drones flew into the building, cutting their restraints. The hostages were surprised... Well, more like scared and just stayed there. Some of the older ones crawled before the kids. Even when they were afraid of the man in the armor, they still covered the young ones, thinking that the man in the armor would kill the kids.

"Who are you?" One of the older men asked, and he was using his own body to shield his daughter, who was still scared but brave enough to look at the man in the armor.

"Ironman." The armored man responded.

And after that, there was silence. Everyone was looking at him like he was the most craziest man they'd ever seen in their entire life.

"What are you waiting for? Go on, get out of here before more of them arrive," Ironman said. "There are trucks and cars, go."

The civilians hesitated. They were looking at each other, not knowing if what they heard was really true or not. After a few seconds, one of them got up. It was a woman holding her child. She walked towards Ironman, and after looking at the man in the armor with a face filled with gratitude and hope, she spoke to the man in the armor.

"Thank you, Ironman," she whispered as she passed him by, bowing her head slightly before going to where her husband was.

After that, one by one, the rest of the hostages stood up. They followed the woman, expressing their thanks. The younger ones even tried to hug him, but the older ones stopped them. He didn't mind it though. But for him, seeing that he saved these people made him feel warm and complete. He activated two drones and put them in charge of taking them out of the area.

"I'm sending two drones with you. They'll lead you out of the area," Tony told the group.

Soon, the civilians were gone. Tony made his way to the center of the compound, scanning the area. He found a computer room and entered. Legion accessed the networks, downloading files and hacking into their systems. The AI began its search, combing through the information and analyzing it.

Tony frowned beneath his mask. There were names, locations, and transactions. Enough information to put these bastards behind bars.

He copied all of it onto his suit's memory and then sent the data back to his private network.

"Hermes, upload these files to SHIELD," Tony said. "Let them clean up this mess."

"Acknowledged," Hermes responded.

With that done, Tony tied up those terrorists together, put oxygen masks on them thanks to his Bio-Nanites, and flew back to the base with them dangling in the air.

By the time he reached Malibu, Hermes had finished scrambling the security systems. No cameras, no radar, no satellites—nothing to detect his arrival.

Tony landed smoothly, releasing the restrained terrorists in a secured holding cell beneath his lab.

“Not bad for a test run,” he mused, looking over his handiwork.

The black suit deconstructed, retreating into the Arc Reactor, leaving Tony standing in his workshop. He stretched, letting out a tired sigh.

“One problem solved. A million more to go.”

[Ironman] Ch: 28 [Suit up]

Words: 2.3k

---

The lab was eerily quiet except for the low hum of the Arc Reactor. Tony stood at his workstation, a large holographic display surrounding him. He had dozens of designs pulled up, each floating in the air like a constellation of creativity and engineering. These weren’t just rough sketches. They were ideas he had seen in his past life as Jack... designs inspired by comics, movies, fan art, and even his own imagination.

“Alright, boys and girls,” Tony muttered to himself, cracking his knuckles. “Time to break some rules and make some history.”

With a swipe of his hand, he dismissed the traditional red-and-gold designs hovering in front of him. “I want something new, different.”

He pulled up a blank canvas and began sketching in three dimensions. His movements were precise, his focus unshakable. The suit would be entirely black, a sleek and seamless design that oozed sophistication and menace. The material? Nanites, of course. He reprogrammed the bio-nanites to adapt, self-repair, and morph into various forms depending on the situation. With Legion AI in control, they were perfectly stable.

The chest piece came first. Tony made the Arc Reactor the centerpiece, embedding it deep within the suit’s design, protected by an extra layer of plating and shield. It wasn’t just a power source; it was the control hub for the nanites. The black plating around it had a subtle, matte finish, broken only by thin, glowing veins that radiated outward like spiderwebs. These veins would serve as conduits for energy, channeling power to different parts of the suit.

Next came the helmet. He opted for a streamlined, minimalist design with no visible seams. The faceplate would feature glowing blue slits for eyes. He then added the HUD system that would provide him with real-time data, enhanced vision modes, and even neural uplinks for faster processing.

“Now, weapons,” Tony said, leaning forward as he activated a new section of the display. “Let’s get creative.”

He allocated the last remaining Vibranium to the suit’s offensive and defensive systems. From the comics and fan art in his memories, he pulled inspiration for energy-based weapons, melee tools, and even shields. Using the nanites, he designed an arsenal that could be summoned at will:

Repulsor Blasts: The palms and forearms housed powerful energy emitters capable of firing concentrated repulsor beams.

Energy Blades: The nanites could morph into sharp, glowing blades extending from the forearms or wrists. They were reinforced with Vibranium for maximum durability.

Kinetic Shielding: A deployable Vibranium-based energy shield could materialize in front of him, capable of absorbing and redistributing kinetic energy.

Nanite Swarm Mode: A unique feature that allowed a portion of the nanites to detach from the suit, forming drones or small tools for reconnaissance and repair.

Flight and Mobility: The boots and back housed thrusters powered by the Arc Reactor. They were fully integrated into the suit, allowing for silent flight and unmatched agility.

Laser beams: Limited usage beams capable of cutting through anything.

Mini-Missiles: Heat-seeking mini-missiles capable of destroying an entire town at 100% output.

He also added a couple of extra touches for non-lethal takedowns.

Tony stepped back from the holographic design, taking a moment to admire his work. The suit was sleek, efficient, and utterly terrifying. The black finish gave it an almost predatory look, while the subtle blue glow of the Arc Reactor and energy veins looked just awesome and scary. Next, he did a little customization to his Arc Reactor to house the nanites. He added an extra circular housing around it. It didn't take much time.

“Alright,” he muttered. “Time to see if the real deal lives up to the hype.”

He activated the nanite swarm in the containment field. The tiny machines surged toward the Arc Reactor, flowing like liquid metal as they merged with the new housing. The reactor pulsed with energy, and the nanites began to compress and reshape.

Within minutes, the process was complete. The Arc Reactor, now embedded with trillions of nanites, rested on a pedestal in the center of the room. Tony approached it, taking a deep breath. All the calculations, safety measures, and other protocols... Everything was perfect according to him. He knew that it was going to work 100%. He could just visualize it.

“Here goes nothing,” he said as he touched the reactor, activating the suit-up protocol.

The nanites responded instantly, flowing over his hand and up his arm. Within seconds, they had enveloped his entire body, forming the black suit he had designed. The process was seamless, almost organic. He felt no weight, no restriction—only power.

The helmet formed last as the HUD came online. Tony’s vision was replaced by a high-resolution display, complete with diagnostic readouts, environmental scans, and tactical overlays. He moved his hands experimentally, watching as the energy veins glowed brighter with each motion.

“Damn,” he whispered, his voice amplified by the suit’s built-in comms. “I look good.”

He activated the repulsors in his palms, feeling the little humming sound. With a flick of his wrist, a glowing blue blade extended from his forearm. He swung it experimentally, marveling at its precision.

“I'm a freaking genius. It's like a dream come true. Let’s test the mobility,” Tony said, activating the thrusters in his boots. He hovered a few feet off the ground, the suit responding effortlessly to his commands. He pushed harder, zipping around the lab in tight circles before landing smoothly.

“Not bad,” he said, smirking beneath the helmet. “Not bad at all.”

The suit deconstructed as easily as it had formed, the nanites retreating back into the Arc Reactor. Tony held the reactor in his hands, feeling the weight of his creation—not just physically, but metaphorically. This was more than a suit. It was the culmination of everything he had worked for, a tool that could change the world.

Or save his life.

“Alright, Legion,” Tony said, placing the reactor back on its pedestal. “Suit’s done. Now let’s move on to phase two. Time to test the weapon system. Hermes, open up that empty room and set up some targets. Use the robots and drones we made this year. It's time to check how good they stand against this newbie."

"Affirmative." The AI responded.

The lab whirred to life as Hermes responded to Tony’s request. "Initiating training room assembly," the AI stated in its crisp, calm tone. Panels along the walls began to shift and rearrange, revealing hidden compartments housing advanced machinery. Mechanical arms extended, assembling what looked like a futuristic shooting range on one side and a simulated urban battlefield on the other. In the center, a spacious open area with holographic emitters and projectors formed, capable of creating various scenarios.

"Estimated time to completion: thirty minutes," Hermes added.

Tony glanced at the display showing the progress. "Good. Gives me time to calibrate the energy systems," he said, walking over to his workstation. He activated the Arc Reactor, placing it into a custom testing cradle that synced it with the lab’s mainframe. A holographic interface appeared, displaying real-time data on the nanites’ functionality and energy distribution.

“Alright, let’s make sure these little guys don’t blow me to kingdom come,” Tony muttered. He ran diagnostics on the suit’s energy weapons, tweaking the power output for each system.

Repulsor Blasts: He adjusted the charge levels for different scenarios, from non-lethal bursts to full-power beams capable of punching through reinforced steel.

Energy Blades: He configured the blades to alternate between Vibranium reinforcement for durability and pure energy for cutting through materials at a molecular level.

Kinetic Shielding: Tony optimized the shield’s energy absorption, ensuring it could redirect absorbed kinetic energy back into an offensive blast if needed.

Mini-Missiles: He added targeting subroutines for heat-seeking and proximity detonation, fine-tuning their explosive radius to prevent collateral damage in tight spaces.

By the time the training room was ready, Tony had calibrated everything down to the nanosecond.

“Hermes, status update on the room,” he called out.

“Training room assembly is complete. Target dummies and holographic scenarios are ready for testing,” the AI responded.

Tony smirked, picking up the Arc Reactor. "Perfect. Time to dance."

He activated the suit. The nanites immediately responded and flowed over his body once more. The black suit formed flawlessly. He flexed his fingers. "Alright, Hermes," He said, stepping into the training room. "Bring out the toys. Let’s see what these weapons can really do."

The room came to life. Panels in the walls slid open, and out came rows of mechanized dummies, some designed to simulate human-sized enemies while others were hulking, tank-like robots with reinforced armor. Targets of varying shapes and sizes popped up in the distance. A group of drones hovered into the air, their weapon systems primed.

"Engage level one," Tony commanded.

The first wave began. Three humanoid dummies rolled toward him on tracks, wielding batons and shields. Tony reacted instantly, raising his hands. The repulsors in his palms hummed to life, firing bright blue beams of energy that struck the first dummy square in the chest, shattering it into fragments. The second and third dummies closed in, but Tony activated the energy blades on his forearms. With a fluid motion, he slashed through them, the blades cutting cleanly through their reinforced materials.

"Well, that’s satisfying," He muttered, spinning the blades back into his forearms. "Let’s turn it up."

"Hermes, level two. Add ranged combatants," he said.

The next wave introduced drones armed with lasers. They buzzed around the room, firing beams of light in rapid succession. Tony activated his thrusters, leaping into the air with a burst of speed. The drones adjusted their aim, but he was too fast, weaving through their attacks.

He raised his arm, firing a mini-missile from his wrist. It locked onto a drone, trailing it for a moment before detonating with precision, sending the wreckage tumbling to the ground. Two more drones approached from behind, but Tony activated his kinetic shield. A shimmering, Vibranium-reinforced barrier materialized in front of him, absorbing their laser fire effortlessly. With a quick command, he redirected the absorbed energy, releasing it as a powerful shockwave that knocked both drones out of the air.

"How’s that for efficiency?" Tony quipped, landing gracefully on the floor.

"Hermes, level three. Mix it up—heavies and close-quarters combat," he instructed, his confidence growing.

The next wave was brutal. Large, armored robots rolled into the room, their movements heavy and deliberate. They were armed with shoulder-mounted cannons and heavy machine guns. Alongside them, humanoid dummies equipped with melee weapons charged forward.

Tony’s HUD lit up, analyzing the new threats. He engaged the nanite swarm mode, sending a portion of the suit to detach from his back. The swarm coalesced into several small drones that flew toward the melee dummies, bombarding them with concentrated laser fire.

Meanwhile, he focused on the heavies. He darted forward, using his thrusters to zigzag past their gunfire. As one of the robots charged its cannon, Tony activated his Vibranium energy blade, slicing cleanly through the barrel before it could fire. Sparks erupted as the weapon short-circuited.

The second heavy wasn’t as easily dispatched. It swung a massive arm at Tony, who barely dodged in time. He activated the kinetic shield, blocking the next blow. The force of the impact was immense, but the shield held strong. Tony countered by firing a concentrated repulsor blast directly into the robot’s exposed joints, crippling its movement. A follow-up missile to its core finished the job.

"Level three complete," Hermes announced.

Tony landed amidst the debris, breathing steadily. "That all you got, Hermes?"

"Initiating level four: maximum difficulty. All systems engaged."

The room shifted again, walls retracting to reveal more advanced robots. They were humanoid machines with high agility and integrated weapon systems. Swarms of drones filled the air, and from the far wall, a massive bipedal mech emerged, its towering frame bristling with weaponry.

Tony’s smirk faltered slightly. "Alright, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself," he muttered. Then, straightening, he raised his hands. "Let’s dance."

The battle was chaos. Drones swarmed him from all sides, their coordinated attacks forcing Tony to rely on every tool at his disposal. He alternated between energy blasts, blades, and missiles, each strike calculated and precise. The humanoid machines closed in, their movements faster and more unpredictable than the earlier waves. Tony’s HUD tracked their positions, giving him split-second warnings. He parried their attacks with his blades, countering with devastating repulsor blasts that sent them flying.

The mech loomed over the battlefield, its cannons unleashing a relentless barrage. Tony activated his thrusters, flying straight toward it. He dodged its fire with expert precision, weaving through the air like a missile. As he neared, the mech raised a massive arm to swat him away, but Tony anticipated the move. He veered to the side, deploying his nanite swarm. The tiny machines latched onto the mech’s arm, disassembling its plating and exposing its internal wiring.

"Time for the big finale," He said, aiming both palms at the mech’s exposed core. He charged his repulsors to maximum power, firing twin beams that bored straight through its armor. The mech shuddered, its systems failing as it collapsed to the ground.

The room fell silent, save for the hum of the Arc Reactor. Tony hovered above the wreckage, surveying the destruction.

"Level four complete," Hermes announced. "All systems functioning within optimal parameters."

Tony deactivated the suit, letting the nanites retreat back into the Arc Reactor. He stood amidst the wreckage, grinning. "Hermes, log all data. I think we’ve got ourselves a winner."

---

AN: Next Chapter: Field testing

[Batman x Ironman] Ch: 73 [Suits: Crysis x MGR: Revengence]

[3 months later]

Bruce as promised began to create new bodies for the souls within the Rings. It was almost 90% completed. In the meantime, he trained to master the power of the Rings, which was a bit too easy for him. And with the guidance of the souls, he managed to unlock the true potential of the Ten Rings. But somewhere in his heart, he still missed Skylar, the lightning soul. Apart from that, he made new suits with the next-gen nanites for the Shield agents and the heroes.

Bruce stood in the vast laboratory, his eyes scanning the holographic blueprints of the new armor designs floating above the console. Drawing from the countless memories of his previous life, games he played as a young man, and now wielding unmatched technological prowess, Bruce had begun to turn those dreams into reality. Every suit, every enhancement, was designed with precision, practicality, and purpose, ensuring it complemented the abilities of its wearer.

The first suit, modeled after the nanosuits from Crysis, was a marvel of nanotechnology and adaptability. It provided unparalleled strength, speed, and stealth capabilities. The suit could absorb kinetic energy, project a cloaking field for invisibility, and amplify physical performance to near-superhuman levels. It was sleek, black, and slightly reflective, with intricate glowing lines running along its surface. It was a blend of cutting-edge technology and futuristic elegance. Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton had been the first on his mind when designing these suits. Their unique skill sets would thrive with such enhancements, giving them an edge even against foes with supernatural abilities.

The second set of armor, a more stripped-down version of the nano suits, was created for S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Though not as powerful as the elite models, these suits provided enhanced durability, limited stealth capabilities, and HUD systems to assist in combat. They were designed to maximize the efficiency of the agents in the field while ensuring that even less experienced operatives could use them effectively.

But it was the third creation that had Bruce feeling a surge of satisfaction. Inspired by Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance, the cybernetic enhancements were designed for those who had given everything to protect the world... soldiers, police officers, and veterans who had lost limbs in battle. The technology not only restored what they had lost but enhanced it, making them stronger, faster, and more capable than ever before. These enhancements were modular, allowing individuals to customize their abilities according to their needs. Soldiers could wield cybernetic arms that doubled as shields or weapons, while officers had access to agility boosts and advanced reflex systems. For those who had been left behind, Bruce had given them the tools to return to the fight on their own terms.

"Natasha, Clint," Bruce called through the comm system. "Meet me in the testing chamber. I’ve got something for you to try out."

Within minutes, the doors to the chamber slid open, and Natasha and Clint walked in, their curiosity evident. Bruce stood near a sleek table where the two Crysis-style nanosuits were displayed.

"Let me guess," Clint began, smirking. "You’ve built us something ridiculous that’s going to make us feel like superheroes."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Ridiculous? No. Revolutionary? Absolutely. These are your new suits." He gestured to the table. "Natasha, Clint... meet the Crysis models. Lightweight, adaptive, and designed to complement your skill sets. They enhance speed, strength, and reflexes. Stealth mode comes standard, of course. Try them on."

Natasha approached first, her fingers brushing over the smooth, textured surface of the suit. "It looks like something out of a sci-fi movie," she remarked, her tone betraying a hint of admiration.

"It’s better than fiction," Bruce replied. "The nanites in the suit respond to your movements. They’ll adapt to your fighting style and even provide tactical analysis during combat. The kinetic absorption system will protect you from most ballistic impacts, and the stealth field can render you invisible for extended periods."

Clint picked up his suit, examining it closely. "And here I thought I’d seen everything. What’s the catch?"

"No catch," Bruce said, a rare smirk appearing on his face. "But you’ll need to train with the suits to unlock their full potential. The system learns from you, and the more you use it, the better it gets."

The two agents exchanged glances before heading to the changing rooms. Moments later, they stepped back out, clad in the black, glowing suits. Bruce nodded in approval.

"Now," he said, tapping a few commands into the console. The testing chamber shifted, the walls transforming into a simulated urban environment. "Let’s see what you’ve got. The simulation is set to level one. Show me how you handle it."

The simulation came to life, spawning holographic enemies armed with weapons and surrounding the duo. Natasha and Clint exchanged a knowing look before springing into action. Clint’s movements were faster, his arrows finding their marks with precision. Natasha darted between enemies, striking with a speed and strength that left the holograms crumpled in seconds.

As they worked, Bruce watched from the control room, a satisfied expression on his face. "They’re adapting faster than I expected," he muttered to himself.

When the simulation ended, both agents stood in the center of the chamber, barely winded. Natasha pulled off her mask, her hair falling around her shoulders. "This is really awesome. So much power..." she admitted. "But I’d like to see what it can do in a real fight."

"You’ll get your chance," Bruce promised. "This is just the beginning."

He paused, then gestured toward another set of doors. "There’s more. Come with me."

The trio walked through the labyrinthine halls of the facility until they arrived at another section of the lab. The doors slid open with a soft hiss, revealing rows of sleek, high-tech armor and cybernetic enhancements displayed on illuminated platforms. The room was vast, lined with holographic readouts and displays showcasing each piece of technology.

Bruce turned to Natasha and Clint, his expression calm yet purposeful. "What you just saw in the testing chamber was a taste. These," he gestured to the room around them, "represent the next stage in global defense."

Natasha raised an eyebrow, stepping forward to inspect one of the lesser nanosuits designed for S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. It was bulkier than the Crysis models but still looked lightweight enough to move efficiently. "These are for the agents?" she asked.

"Correct," Bruce replied. "Not every agent needs elite-level gear, but they do need to be better prepared. These suits are built for durability and functionality, with basic enhancements to strength, agility, and reflexes. They're equipped with integrated HUD systems for battlefield awareness and can withstand moderate energy or ballistic attacks. Nothing too flashy, but they’ll keep our people alive in situations where they’d otherwise stand no chance."

Clint was already inspecting a cybernetic arm displayed on one of the platforms. The sleek design was polished metal with subtle black accents, its fingers curling and uncurling as if alive. "And these?" he asked, turning back to Bruce.

"Cybernetic enhancements," Bruce said, his tone softening slightly. "For those who’ve sacrificed parts of themselves to protect the world. Soldiers, cops, agents—people who’ve given everything and still want to fight. These aren’t just prosthetics; they’re upgrades. Stronger, faster, and designed to integrate seamlessly with the user’s body. Every piece is modular, so they can customize it to suit their needs. Arms, legs, even spinal reinforcement for mobility impairments."

He stepped toward the center of the room, where a hologram of the Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance-inspired cybernetic suit rotated slowly. "This is my answer to the problem we’ve ignored for too long. We’ve had heroes, gods, and enhanced individuals saving the world, but what about the everyday fighters? The ones who hold the line until the big guns arrive? These enhancements give them the chance to not only keep up but thrive. They can reclaim their place in the fight."

Natasha crossed her arms, nodding thoughtfully. "This is amazing," she remarked, her tone tinged with admiration. "This could change the game completely. But..." She hesitated.

"You're wondering when," Bruce said. He tapped a command into the console, causing the holograms to flicker briefly. "The technology is stable and ready to roll out. But we’re going to roll this out in phases. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents get the first wave. They’re already trained, and these suits will amplify their capabilities. The second wave will be cybernetics, starting with the veterans and fighters who need them most. They need the most time to train with them. Shuri can handle their training. She's an expert at cybernetics after all and I have sent her the info already."

Natasha approached one of the cybernetic arms, running her hand over its smooth surface. "How many people could benefit from something like this?" She said softly.

"Thousands," Bruce replied. "Tens of thousands, eventually. Anyone who’s lost a part of themselves but hasn’t lost their will to fight. These enhancements will give them a second chance. And with the resources we have, we can mass-produce them."

Clint looked skeptical. "You sure about that, Bruce? Handing out this kind of tech to just anyone? Seems like a recipe for trouble."

Bruce smirked faintly. "That’s why there will be strict oversight. We’ll start small pilot programs with S.H.I.E.L.D., the military, and vetted candidates. It’s not about turning the world into an army of super soldiers. It’s about giving people the tools they need to protect themselves and others. Besides, every single unit has a kill switch. If anyone goes rogue or tries to fiddle with the suits or cybernetics, it will fry the tech."

He paused, then turned back to Natasha and Clint. "And that brings me to the next phase."

Bruce pressed a button on a nearby console, and a holographic display of weapons, drones, and other equipment appeared. "These upgrades don’t just apply to armor and cybernetics. We’re improving weapons, too—energy-based tech, lethal and non-lethal options, and combat drones. The goal is to create a system where every operative, every soldier, has the means to handle anything from street-level threats to extraterrestrial invasions."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "That’s ambitious."

"It has to be," Bruce said firmly. "The threats we face aren’t going away. If anything, they’re escalating. Brainiac might attack anytime and we have no way of telling when. So, we can’t afford to be reactive anymore. We have to be prepared for anything and that means bringing everyone up to speed."

Natasha nodded. "Well, it looks like we have a lot of work ahead of us."

"Sigh! Another alien invasion... I was getting so used to this peace that I almost forgot about Brainiac," Clint sighed. "It's always one disaster after the other."

"In this business, that's the name of the game," Bruce remarked.

"True. By the way, what about Dr. Strange?" Natasha asked. "I heard you went to Kamar-Taj. Any news?"

"Nope. It was empty. There was no one there. I left one sentinel there just in case someone shows up, but nothing so far," Bruce explained.

"Well, we better get started them and Bruce, please look after the newbie training sessions. I could really use a hand," Clint said.

"Alright, I will swing by tomorrow. Today, I'm on a break..."

[Ironman] Ch: 27 [Legion AI 100% Syncro]

Words: 2.5k

---

Now that Natasha was busy with the restaurant job, Tony took a little breather and shifted his attention to the Legion AI. It was completed. The only thing left was to check if it could handle trillions of nanites without harming the user. Besides that, the private yacht also moved away from the location. He was able to get snippets of their conversation, but nothing that useful. It was like they talked in codes, or the communication was encrypted.

"Phew!" Tony stretched his arms. Everything was ready for the next step, but before that, the bet he made with his father about creating the perfect Arc Reactor, well, he already won. He called Howard that day. Within a few seconds, he picked up the call. His face appeared on the screen before Tony. "Hey, Dad. Busy?"

"Nope, I'm free." Howard smiled and asked, "You are a sight for sore eyes. So, you calling me means two things. You either want something or you finally managed to achieve a breakthrough in your project. Which one is it?"

"The second one, of course," Tony replied with an arrogant smirk as he held the Arc Reactor in his hand and showed it to him. "So, can this be the perfect Arc Reactor?"

Howard's expression turned serious and he said, "That's small. What core did you use? What's the energy output?"

Tony's smirk turned into a frown and he started to explain, "Vibranium. And the energy output is 20.2 gigajoules per second. Pretty impressive, right? I mean, it can generate clean and virtually limitless energy. This single one with a little bit of tweaking can run the entire Stark Industries forever with just simple maintenance every now and then. And your expression says I won the bet, huh?"

"That's impressive, son. You won the bet," Howard said with a smile. He was proud of his son. His genius had finally reached a point where the future of humanity was within his hands. He couldn't wait to see what Tony was planning to achieve in the future. His lifelong dream of creating perfect clean energy was finally realized in the form of Vibranium-based Arc Reactors. He asked with a little curiosity, "Is this why you asked for the vibranium?"

"Yup! But I'm also working on another project that needs it as well. Anyway, you do remember about that reward, right?" Tony asked.

"Fine. You'll get your island. Now. tell me about this new project of yours that requires that much vibranium," Howard replied, and he was more than intrigued about what his son wanted to achieve using Vibranium.

"I'll tell you in due time, Dad. All I can say right now is that my research will help humanity beyond their wildest imagination. Just trust me, okay? By the way, how is mom doing?" He asked.

"How do you think?" Howard replied with a question.

"Ah! Angry. I was so busy I forgot to call her," Tony sighed.

Howard knew the reason his son was so busy. After all, it was all the projects his son was working on. He was worried seeing how his son had become a workaholic in recent days. However, he could not do much to stop Tony. In fact, it was one of the happiest times in Howard's life. His son had grown so much within these few months. And he couldn't stop himself from worrying about his son's future.

"Alright, then. I'm off. Talk to you later, Dad."

"You better call her today," Howard warned him as Tony was about to hang up the call.

"I will!" He assured.

Howard could only shake his head in helplessness.

Tony leaned back in his chair, letting out a breath as he glanced at the clock on the wall. "Right. Mom," he muttered to himself, pulling up his holo-screen and tapping to call her. He adjusted his seat as the ringing began, mentally preparing for the lecture he knew was coming.

Within seconds, the call connected, and Maria Stark’s face appeared on the screen, her expression a mix of curiosity and mild annoyance.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my son who finally remembers he has a mother,” Maria quipped, crossing her arms. She wasn’t mad, not entirely, but her tone carried the weight of having waited for this call for far too long.

“Hey, Mom. Missed me?” Tony started with his signature charm, flashing a grin.

“Don’t you dare try to sweet-talk me,” she shot back, but there was a fondness in her voice. “I’ve been waiting for this call for weeks. Do you know how many dinners I’ve had to convince myself you’d probably show up for? You didn’t. You promised to come home last month, remember?”

“Yeah, I know. I am sorry,” Tony admitted, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’ve been… busy.”

“Busy? Busy with what? Saving the world, inventing a time machine, or building something even more ridiculous?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.

Tony chuckled, shaking his head. “Not that ridiculous. But, uh, you’re not far off.” He paused, reaching off-screen to grab the Arc Reactor. “Look at this, Mom. The perfect Arc Reactor. Vibranium-based, unlimited clean energy, completely sustainable. Humanity is never going to run out of power again. How’s that for busy?”

Maria’s eyes widened as she leaned closer to the screen. “Tony… that’s incredible.” Her expression softened, and a proud smile replaced the annoyance. “Howard told me you’d been working on something groundbreaking, but I didn’t think it would be this monumental. I’m proud of you, sweetheart.”

Tony’s smirk faltered, just for a moment, at her words. For all the accolades and accomplishments he’d racked up, hearing his mother say she was proud always hit differently. “Thanks, Mom. Means a lot coming from you.”

“But,” Maria said, her tone suddenly sharp, “that doesn’t excuse you from ignoring your family. I’m proud of you, yes, but I don’t want to see you work yourself to death. You need balance, Tony.”

Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know, I know. I’ll do better, okay? Promise. It’s just… there’s a lot at stake right now. Big projects. Big moves. You and Dad always said to aim high, right?”

Her expression softened again. “Yes, but we also taught you to take care of yourself. Your father and I… we only ever wanted you to have a future where you could live freely, without being consumed by your work.”

“Alright, alright, I get it. I’ll take a break soon,” He assured her, though his tone suggested it was more of a delay than a certainty. “But tell me, how’ve you been? What’s going on in your world?”

“Well, nothing as exciting as Vibranium reactors,” Maria teased, “but I’ve been working on a few charity events. Your father insists on overseeing every little detail, as usual, but it’s been keeping me busy.”

Tony smirked at the mention of his father’s micromanagement. “Sounds about right. I don’t think Dad’s ever met a detail he didn’t want to obsess over.”

She chuckled softly. “It keeps him out of trouble, at least. But enough about us. When are you coming home, Tony? We could use some of your charm at these events, you know. A little Stark star power might loosen a few purse strings.”

Tony leaned back, rubbing his chin as if he were seriously considering it. “Hmm, charity galas and schmoozing with donors. Tempting. But I think the world-saving gig takes precedence. That being said, I’ll see if I can make time—no promises, though.”

“Don’t tease me, Tony,” Maria warned, but her smile betrayed her. “It would mean a lot to have you there. And I’m sure your father would enjoy showing you off to his friends.”

“I bet,” He replied with a wry grin. “Alright, I’ll check my schedule. Worst case, I’ll send a hologram of me. Almost as good as the real thing, right?”

“Not even close,” She shot back, shaking her head. “But I’ll take what I can get.”

“Deal,” He said, glancing at the clock again. “Anyway, I’ve got to run. Big day tomorrow, you know how it is. But I’ll call again soon—sooner than last time, I promise.”

Maria’s expression softened again. “You better, Tony. And take care of yourself, alright? You’re more important to us than any of your projects.”

His usual smirk gave way to a genuine smile. “I will, Mom. Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart. Don’t work too hard,” Maria said before the call ended.

Tony leaned back in his chair, staring at the now-empty holo-screen. He let out a deep breath, the weight of his family’s concerns settling in his chest. “Right. Balance,” he muttered to himself. Then, with a shake of his head, he refocused on the work ahead. There was still so much to do.

...

[Back to the main lab]

Tony stood in his lab, surrounded by the gentle hum of machines and the soft glow of holo-screens displaying complex streams of data. In the center of the room, a sleek container filled with trillions of shimmering, microscopic nanites rested atop a reinforced platform. Beside it, the new Vibranium-based Arc Reactor was securely mounted in a custom-built cradle, its brilliant blue light pulsing steadily, a testament to the raw, limitless energy it generated.

“Alright, boys and girls,” Tony muttered to himself, pulling up a 3D holographic interface of the Legion AI. The interface displayed a swirling array of interconnected nodes and neural pathways, the AI’s simulated “brain.” “Let’s see if you’re ready to handle the pressure.”

He tapped a few controls, summoning two smaller AIs into the system. “Hermes, Elena, you’re up. Monitor the integration process. Make sure our new friend here doesn’t fry himself or me.”

Two voices chimed in almost simultaneously, their tones distinct but cooperative.

“Understood, sir,” Hermes said in his crisp, efficient tone. “I will monitor energy distribution and ensure stability within the Arc Reactor.”

“Got it, boss,” Elena added, her voice warm and slightly playful. “I’ll keep an eye on Legion’s neural activity and make sure the nanites don’t go rogue. Let’s hope your new toy plays nice.”

Tony smirked, his fingers flying over the controls as he finalized the configuration. “Don’t jinx it, Elena. Alright, step one... Activate the energy feed.”

Hermes reported instantly. “Energy feed initiated. Vibranium core output is stable at 20.2 gigajoules per second. Nanite containment field is holding.”

Tony glanced at the containment screen. Trillions of nanites were dormant, their silvery forms suspended in a state of perfect stillness, awaiting activation. He took a deep breath, the magnitude of what he was about to do hitting him for a moment.

“Step two... Connect Legion to the nanite interface,” Tony said, his voice steady. He tapped a final command, and the holographic display of Legion AI expanded, its neural pathways lighting up as the connection was established.

“Connection established,” Elena confirmed. “Legion is online and actively interfacing with the nanite control grid.”

Tony’s gaze flicked to the diagnostic display. So far, so good. “Alright, Legion, let’s see what you’ve got. Begin synchronization with the nanites. Slow ramp-up to full control. Let’s keep this gentle.”

The AI’s voice was calm and deliberate, its tone reflecting the sophistication Tony had poured into its design. “Acknowledged. Synchronizing with nanite swarm. Progress: one percent and climbing.”

As the process began, he monitored the data streams with laser focus. The nanites started to shift within their container, moving in synchronized patterns that reflected Legion’s growing influence. Each movement was deliberate, almost hypnotic as if the tiny machines were a living organism responding to a higher will.

Hermes reported. “Energy consumption has increased by 15 percent, but the Arc Reactor is compensating without issue. Power levels remain stable.”

“Neural activity within Legion is stable as well,” Elena added. “No signs of overload or instability.”

Tony nodded, his confidence building. “Good. Keep an eye on the energy draw. If it spikes past 30 percent, we pull the plug. Let’s push to 50 percent synchronization.”

The nanites moved faster now, forming intricate shapes and patterns within the containment field. Tony couldn’t help but marvel at their precision. They were more than machines. They were an extension of his genius, a tool that could change the world. And a tool to remove the infinity gem from his head and save himself.

“Synchronization at 50 percent,” Legion reported. “Nanite control grid is fully operational. No anomalies detected.”

Tony exhaled, relief washing over him. “Alright, let’s kick it up a notch. Full synchronization. Let’s see if you can handle the whole swarm.”

The room grew tense as the process accelerated. The nanites flowed like liquid mercury, shifting and reforming in mesmerizing patterns. The Arc Reactor glowed brighter, its Vibranium core effortlessly powering the massive swarm.

“Synchronization at 80 percent,” Legion announced. “Neural load is increasing but within acceptable parameters.”

“Energy consumption is holding steady,” Hermes reported. “No spikes detected.”

Tony’s heart raced as the progress bar inched closer to completion. “Come on, Legion. Show me what you’re made of.”

“Synchronization at 100 percent,” Legion finally said. “Nanite swarm is fully integrated and under my control. All systems are stable.”

Tony let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He glanced at the data readouts, every indicator glowing green. “Well, I’ll be damned. You did it, Legion. Hermes, Elena, give me a full diagnostic report.”

“Diagnostics complete,” Hermes replied. “Nanite control grid, Arc Reactor, and AI systems are operating at peak efficiency. No anomalies detected.”

“Everything’s smooth on my end too,” Elena added. “Boss, I think you’ve got yourself a winner.”

Tony grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Damn right I do. Alright, Legion, stand by for further commands. Hermes, Elena, great work. You’ve earned a virtual pat on the back.”

The AIs responded with their customary efficiency, but Tony was already lost in thought. He stared at the shimmering nanites, imagining the possibilities. Medical breakthroughs, environmental restoration, even space exploration—this was more than just a project. It was a revolution.

But for now, he had one thing on his mind: what to test next. Smirking to himself, he muttered, “Let’s see just how far we can push the boundaries. I need to start live subject tests. Using rats or other small animals isn't an option. I need human test subjects... Goons and terrorists would do just fine. Time to create a suit."

[Ironman] Ch: 26 [Shawarma and Secrets]

Words: 2.3k

[3 months ago]

Natasha Romanoff sat straight in a hard metal chair, her face calm and hard to read. Around her, a team of Red Room operatives worked quietly.

General Dreykov stood at the head of the table. The holographic display of Tony Stark’s face reflected on his big glasses. Stark’s smirk was filled with arrogance and his dark eyes were gleaming with the kind of intelligence that both fascinated and unnerved her. The dossier in Natasha’s hands detailed everything they knew about the heir to Stark Industries: genius-level intellect, MIT prodigy, robotics innovator, and son of the legendary Howard Stark.

“He’s disappeared,” Dreykov said, his voice sharp and clipped. “No public appearances for over a year. No interviews. No social connections. No involvement in Stark Industries since graduating. A recluse in Malibu, of all places.”

Natasha’s gaze didn’t waver as she responded. “And yet you think he’s a threat?”

“Not a threat,” Dreykov corrected. “A loose end. Stark Industries is one of the most powerful weapons manufacturers in the world. Howard Stark was a problem for us for years, always slipping out of reach. His son... might be worse. Stark Junior is unpredictable, brilliant, and, for some reason, working in isolation. We don’t know what he’s building. All our efforts to sneak in and hack into the facility have failed. The technology at that place is beyond anything we have ever encountered. If the security is that tight, it can only mean one thing: Stark is building something big. Something new. Something that will destabilize the entire balance of power in the world if left unchecked and that makes him dangerous.”

The room was silent for a moment, tension thick in the air. Natasha’s mind raced as she pieced together the information. Stark’s seclusion wasn’t just a personal choice. It was calculated. A man like Tony Stark didn’t fade into obscurity without a reason.

“What’s the objective?” she asked, breaking the silence.

Dreykov’s lips curled into a thin smile. “Get close to him. Gain his trust. Find out what he’s working on. If it’s something we can use, acquire it. If it’s something we can’t... neutralize the threat.”

The word hung in the air, heavy with implication. Neutralize. Natasha nodded, her face betraying nothing. This was just another mission. Another role to play. Another target to manipulate and probably kill in the end.

[Arrival in Malibu]

The sunny California weather was very different from the cold, lifeless feel of the Red Room. Natasha put on her sunglasses as she got out of the black SUV, looking around the beautiful beach town. It was nothing like the busy cities she usually worked in. The air had a salty, sunscreen smell, and the sound of waves hitting the shore made everything feel calm—maybe too calm for the job she had to do.

Her cover identity was a new residence trying to make a break. A young woman with a degree in business management and marketing, looking for opportunities in Malibu’s small but affluent business scene. It was simple, unassuming, and believable. Since she doesn't have a record outside it made the job easier. Red Room created a new identity for this mission.

Her first task had been setting up the restaurant where Tony goes most of the time. The Red Room had purchased the property under a shell company weeks before her arrival, equipping it with hidden cameras, microphones, and a state-of-the-art surveillance system. Every inch of the building had been swept and prepped for its dual purpose: a functioning eatery and a covert operations hub. No one, including the workers, knew what was going on in there. Well, they were professional after all.

For the first three months, Natasha had observed from a distance. Stark’s routines were irregular at best. He rarely left his facility, a sprawling, high-tech building perched on a cliff overlooking the ocean. When he did go out, it was usually for groceries or the occasional walk along the beach or to grab lunch. He spoke to no one, his interactions were limited to cashiers and delivery drivers. There were no parties, no visitors, and no signs of reckless behavior.

“He’s disciplined,” Natasha reported during a secure call to the Red Room. “Focused. He’s not wasting time. Whatever he’s working on, it’s consuming him.”

“Then it’s time to make contact,” Dreykov instructed. “Push him. See how he reacts.”

Natasha’s mind raced as she planned her approach. Stark was brilliant, and brilliant people were often predictable in their arrogance. He wouldn’t be swayed by simple flattery or charm. No, she would need to play this carefully and show just enough vulnerability to disarm him, enough wit to keep his interest, and enough mystery to make him want more.

The restaurant was the perfect trap. Its location was strategic, positioned near one of Stark’s usual walking routes and it was his usual lunch spot. Natasha had ensured the staff were all in place, unwitting pawns who believed they were simply running a business. The surveillance system was active, every angle covered, every microphone tuned to pick up the faintest whispers.

The final piece of the puzzle was making sure Stark ended up at her table. This required a bit of subtle manipulation: the seating arrangements were adjusted, a few tables were conveniently marked as “reserved,” and Natasha positioned herself in the most accessible spot. She chose her outfit carefully. Casual but flattering, approachable but not overbearing. The key was to look unassuming, someone he wouldn’t immediately suspect.

When Tony entered the restaurant that day, she felt a spark of satisfaction. He looked exactly as she had anticipated: dressed down in jeans and a T-shirt, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, scanning the room with an awareness that hinted at his underlying paranoia.

Natasha didn’t approach him directly. She waited, letting the carefully orchestrated scenario play out. The “coincidental” open seat at her table. The casual banter that followed. The way she eased into the role of someone slightly out of place, someone who needed a friend.

Her every word, every gesture, was calculated. The way she smiled, the way she leaned in a little when she talked, the way she laughed at his jokes... it was all part of the act. But as she sat across from him, listening to his confident charm and clever words, she was surprised by how... real he seemed. Underneath his sarcastic tone, there was a sincerity she hadn’t expected. And there was something else, something she couldn’t quite figure out, that made her think this mission might be harder than she’d thought.

Well, it just went from harder to hell mode when Tony suddenly bought that restaurant the same day he promised her that he'd find a job for her. In a hurry, the spies cleared the place and made sure nothing was out of the ordinary. Natasha had a suspicion that something was wrong. She wondered if her mission was compromised.

'Did he know about us? Is that why he bought it? Or could it be something else...' The questions lingered in her mind but she pushed them aside, focusing on the task at hand. She couldn't afford to lose Tony's trust now, not after working so hard to gain it. Failure wasn't an option.

"What's your plan?" Dreykov demanded. "We can't afford to lose this opportunity."

Natasha remained calm. "I'll handle it, sir. There is no indication that Tony Stark discovered our presence. His actions were merely opportunistic, nothing more."

"We can't risk it," Dreykov insisted. "If you see even a hint that your cover is compromised, I want you to terminate the target and infiltrate his facility."

Natasha nodded, keeping her face impassive. "Understood."

With that, the call ended. Natasha was left alone with her thoughts. She had to admit, she was impressed by Tony's ability to surprise her. He was more clever and resourceful than she'd anticipated. It made him dangerous. But it also made him interesting. It's been a while since she felt the thrill of a challenge.

[Noon]

As planned, Natasha went to the restaurant and saw it was open as usual, but the workers were all new. Tony was sitting in the same spot the day they first met. He waved at her with his usual grin. She walked towards him, feeling a mix of emotions she couldn't quite understand.

"So, do you like chicken shawarma?" Tony asked as Natasha took a seat across from him.

"It's one of my favorite foods, actually," She replied.

Tony chuckled. "I guess we have something in common then."

He called the waiter and ordered. She studied his face as he did. He seemed relaxed as usual. There was no trace of suspicion or anger in his expression. Just the same friendly smile he always wore. It was almost unnerving how easily he could hide his emotions. Was he faking it? Or was he really as unbothered as he seemed?

"So as promised, I got a job for you," He took out a piece of paper from his pocket and placed it before her.

Natasha took the paper and read it. It was a contract for her to be the official manager of this restaurant. The salary was very generous.

"Wait! You bought this place?" She asked while trying to be surprised.

Tony grinned. "Yes, and as you said, I didn't pull my rich daddy card. It's all my money. So...?"

"I don't know what to say..." Natasha said in disbelief.

"Then say yes! I know it's not much, but as a fresh graduate, you need to earn some experience, right? And besides, if you work hard, then in a couple of years we'll be able to open a couple of more restaurants around this place. Together, we'll slowly devour the Malibu restaurant business." Tony said excitedly.

Natasha was stunned. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. She was expecting him to give her a job in one of the Stark facilities, but this... It was completely unexpected.

"Hey? You alright? If you don't like it then there's nothing more I can do. Besides I doubt in your situation you have any better option, right? Better sign the paper or go to bed hungry tonight," Tony joked.

She chuckled shaking her head. It wasn't a fake laugh. She felt genuinely amused. This guy, he never failed to surprise her.

"Are you always that direct?" She asked.

"Oh, you mean the last part about your situation? Yeah, it's always better to be direct rather than dance around the subject. You were looking for a job. I have a job for you. So, how about it? Wanna devour Malibu restaurant business with me?" Tony asked as he extended his hand to her.

"That's very tempting. But before I agree, I need to know one thing. Why are you doing this for me? I know you said we are friends, but still..." Natasha asked with a serious face.

Tony's expression changed. He looked at her with a gentle smile. It was the same smile that she'd seen on his face the day they'd first met. There was something warm and caring in his eyes that made her feel a little off balance.

"Would you believe me if I said, I fell for you the first moment I saw you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Did you?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"No." His answer was simple and straightforward. "I don't believe in love at first sight. Love is something that grows over time. It's something you build with another person, not something you fall into. But I enjoy your company. You got that aura around you... Like an invisible wall between you and the world. Makes me curious. So, I'd like to spend more time with you and get to know you better."

Natasha was speechless. She had never expected him to be so blunt and honest. She was used to lies, deceit, and manipulation. She was used to dealing with people who had ulterior motives. But this... 'Get a grip. You are here to gain his trust and infiltrate his facility. That's all.' She reminded herself.

She extended her hand and took his hand. "Okay, then. I'll accept your offer. And I also enjoy your company. So, let's devour the Malibu restaurant business together." She said with a smile.

Tony grinned. "That's the spirit."

They shook hands and then went on to discuss business plans. Natasha asked him questions about how he planned to run the place while Tony explained everything in detail. He was clearly passionate about it, and it made Natasha feel a little guilty for what she was about to do. The waiter brought them their food. It was chicken shawarma as ordered by Tony.

"Let's eat. You must be starving. I know I am," Tony said as he took a bite of his food.

Natasha followed suit, taking a bite of her own food. It was delicious. Tony watched her intently. She could feel his eyes on her. It made her feel self-conscious, but she tried to ignore it.

"I like your red hair. Is it dye or are you perhaps a natural?" He suddenly asked.

"Excuse me?" Natasha was taken aback by the sudden question.

"Your hair. It looks really nice. The color suits you well," Tony said, pointing at her red curls with his fork.

Natasha blushed a little. It's been a while since anyone complimented her on her appearance. "Thank you. It's natural. I got it from my mother."

"I see. Well, you look great," Tony said as he continued to eat.

'Wait! I was expecting him to ask about my parents, but... What the hell is wrong with this guy?' She wondered.

[Batman x Ironman] Ch: 72 [The Final Ring]

Bruce let Namor and his people go after giving him a warning. The next time, he tries anything like this, that will be his and his entire kingdom's last day on earth. Bruce even placed a couple of Sentinels around his Kingdom, just in case Namor gets any funny ideas.

Harley hugged him from behind, "I did well, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did. Thanks to you I got another Ring. Now only 2 to go," Bruce replied looking at his fingers. He could feel the power of the Rings pulsing through him, each one amplifying the others.

"How is it? The power?" She asked curiously.

"It's intoxicating. It's like nothing I've ever experienced before," he admitted. "It's hard to explain, but it's like I can feel the power surging through my body. Every movement feels effortless. Everything seems so clear. Anyway, I'll reward you later. Right now, we gotta find the other two rings."

Just then a call came from Natasha. Bruce activated the holographic pop-up display on his right arm, "Yeah Nat?"

"We found the Nightbringer Ring. Well, Ami found it. She heard a voice and sneaked out and took down a group of cultists. We were able to take them into custody and get the ring. I think there's some girl trapped inside it."

"Yeah, that's an ancient soul. I'll tell you more later. By the way, how is she?" Bruce asked.

"She's fine. With her powers back, taking down a bunch of cultists is easy for her. Moving on, I have located the final Ring, thanks to the ancient soul'd voice. It's at an underwater Shield lab that was supposed to be abandoned years ago. No idea what the hell it's doing here," Natasha informed with a serious expression.

"Good work, Nat. Send me the coordinates and I'll be there to get it soon." Bruce closed the call and turned to Harley. "Looks like we got another one. You girls go back to the base and protect that Ring. With Mephisto pulling the strings, it's only a matter of time before someone or something attacks it."

"Alright," Selina said, hugging him. "You go take care of things."

"Be careful out there, Dad," Morgan said with a smile. She was satisfied with her first mission with her dad. She got to fly side by side, kick some butt, and save many people. Her dream of being a hero with her power came true today. 'I can't wait to go on another mission with my Dad.'

Bruce nodded, giving Morgan a proud look before flying away toward his next destination.

"Don't leave me, Brucie!" Harley was about to fly behind him, but Selina caught her pigtails and pulled her back.

"You heard him. Back to the base," Selina gave her a stern look.

...

Bruce flew through the sky at a blinding speed. As he approached the coordinates Natasha had sent, Jarvis warned him.

"Sir, gravitational distortions are increasing as you approach the location. Energy readings are... unusual."

Bruce scanned the area, his enhanced Kryptonian vision piercing the ocean's depths. Below, an abandoned S.H.I.E.L.D. lab lay shrouded in an unnatural glow, tendrils of distortion rippling through the water like visible fractures in reality.

"Daimonic is down there," He muttered. He could feel the unusual energy in the air and the eight rings in his fingers were humming.

As Bruce descended, the water around him rippled with eerie vibrations. His nanite suit shifted, forming a reinforced layer around him to handle the immense pressure. Although he doesn't need a suit, one can never be too careful. His Kryptonian strength and speed made traversing the ocean depths almost effortless, but the further he went, the heavier everything felt. The gravity distortion intensified.

At last, the lab came into view. It was a crumbling structure half-buried in the seabed. Glowing cracks spiderwebbed across its exterior, emanating pulses of energy. Bruce landed softly on the seafloor, his boots creating a dull thud.

The main entrance was sealed, but a wave of his hand sent a pulse of energy from his suit, breaking the reinforced steel door apart. He stepped inside, his senses immediately on high alert. The corridors were eerily silent, save for the occasional creak of twisted metal.

Jarvis' voice chimed in. "Detecting life signs, sir. One individual—extremely volatile energy signature. Graviton."

In the heart of the lab, Bruce found the source of the distortions. The Daimonic Ring hovered in the center of a containment field, its glow pulsating with ominous white light. But it wasn't alone.

Standing before the containment unit was Franklin Hall—Graviton. His body radiated with energy, his figure appearing almost blurred as the air around him rippled with gravitational force. His expression was twisted with anger and madness, a result of years of isolation in a forgotten prison.

"You dare intrude on my domain?" Graviton's voice boomed, the room shaking with each word. "This power... my power... will reshape the universe!" He grabbed the ring.

Bruce stepped forward, his voice calm but commanding. "That ring isn't yours, Hall. Stand down before this gets ugly."

Graviton sneered. "Stand down? Do you even comprehend the power I wield? I am gravity itself! You're nothing but an insect to me."

With a flick of his wrist, Graviton unleashed a wave of crushing force. The walls bent inward, and the floor cracked under the pressure. Bruce stood his ground, the nanite suit's stabilizers countering the distortion. His Kryptonian physique kept him unyielding.

"Is that all you got?" Bruce taunted.

Graviton roared in fury, sending another gravitational wave. This time, Bruce moved. In a blur of speed, he dodged the attack, closing the gap between them in an instant. His fist collided with Graviton's chest, sending him flying into the containment wall.

The impact shook the lab, and the containment field flickered.

'Tsk. Using gravity bubble. Ha! A nice trick,' Bruce thought with a smirk.

Graviton recovered quickly, floating into the air as debris swirled around him. "You're fast. But gravity is everywhere. You can't escape it."

He raised his arms, and the room erupted into chaos. Panels tore from the walls, and fragments of metal swirled around them, forming a deadly storm. Bruce activated his heat vision, slicing through the debris as he darted toward Graviton.

Graviton countered by increasing the gravity around Bruce, trying to pin him down.

Bruce felt the gravitational force intensify, pressing down on him like an invisible mountain. The floor beneath his feet cracked and buckled, yet he remained upright, his Kryptonian physique resisting Graviton's attempts to immobilize him. "You really don't understand who you're dealing with," Bruce said, his voice steady despite the pressure. He clenched his fists, the Rings on his fingers glowing brighter with each passing second. The power within them coursed through his body, amplifying his already immense strength.

Graviton sneered, his eyes gleaming with madness. "I control the very forces that bind the universe together! You are nothing!"

With a deafening roar, he unleashed the full power of the Daimonic Ring. A gravitational singularity formed above his head, pulling everything in the room toward its center. The lab trembled as walls, machinery, and even water from outside the facility began to spiral into the vortex.

Bruce planted his feet firmly on the ground, "That's an impressive light show, but you're forgetting something important." He raised his hand, and the eight Rings on his fingers flared with radiant energy. With a flick of his wrist, he sent out a shockwave of pure force, disrupting the singularity.

The vortex collapsed in on itself, the energy dispersing harmlessly. Graviton's expression twisted in rage. "Impossible!"

Bruce dashed forward, his speed blurring him into near invisibility. He delivered a hard uppercut to Graviton's jaw, the force sending the villain hurtling through several walls. Before he could recover, Bruce followed up with a barrage of punches, each one amplified by the Rings. The lab shook with the intensity of their battle, debris raining down around them.

Graviton snarled, his body glowing with gravitational energy. "You're strong, but I can do this all day!" He clapped his hands together, creating a gravitational shockwave that sent Bruce skidding backward.

With the base destroyed, water began to rush in from outside, filling the room. Graviton shot out and went straight for the surface. But before he could get far, a wave of energy slammed into him from behind, knocking him off course.

Bruce caught him by the neck, his grip like a vice. Graviton struggled, but Bruce held firm. "As much as I would have liked to play with you, I'm in a hurry."

He brought his fist back, and then slammed it forward, right into Graviton's face. The impact created a shockwave that rippled through the water and his face splattered open, his brain and flesh exploding in a spray of blood.

The Daimonic Ring slipped out of Graviton's hand. Bruce caught it with ease and then released the corpse. It fell to the ocean floor, sinking into the darkness. He aimed his fist and sent a raw blast of energy, destroying the last of the base and Graviton's body. Then, he flew up toward the surface, the Daimonic Ring in hand.

...

In the depths of Hell, Mephisto paced back and forth across the throne room. His eyes were fixed on the image of Bruce flying toward the surface of the ocean.

"Damn it! Every single one of them is useless. If not for the pact we made, I would've killed them all a long time ago," Mephisto grumbled.

--------

[Ironman] Ch: 25 [The Game Begins]

Words: 2k.

Cold wind howled through the peaks of the rocky mountains. Mandarin and his Ten Rings assassin squad made their way up the steep slopes. They moved in perfect formation, their dark, shadowy figures cutting through the twilight. Each squad member knew that their mission was not one of ordinary importance. Mandarin's empire had been torn asunder by an enemy more powerful than they could have anticipated. The one behind it was Victor Von Doom.

Mandarin's anger was like a fire slowly burning inside him, fueled by years of ambition and now driven by a need for revenge. His empire, which he had spent decades carefully building, had been destroyed by one man—the mysterious Victor Von Doom. This loss hurt him more than any other defeat ever had. With every step he took up the rough, rocky cliffs of the Latverian mountains, his rage grew stronger, pushing him forward.

"Stay sharp," Mandarin ordered, his voice cold and commanding. "Victor must be close. We cannot let him escape again."

The assassins nodded in unison, their faces hidden behind steel masks and shadows, their weapons gleaming under the moonlight. They were trained to hunt, to track, and to eliminate. No one escaped the Ten Rings.

The search was meticulous, as they looked all over the mountain for signs of life. Finally, at the peak, they could see the silhouette of a gigantic structure. It was an old castle, which seemed deserted yet miraculously well-preserved.

“This is it,” Mandarin whispered, his gaze narrowing as he studied the stone walls. The castle had the look of something forgotten by time like it was waiting for something or someone to bring it back to life.

With a silent signal, he and his assassins moved towards the entrance, their boots barely making a sound on the worn stone. As they entered the dimly lit hallways, the atmosphere grew heavier, thick with the scent of dust and decay. The air was unnervingly cold, and the faint hum of what could only be described as an ancient, forgotten magic hung in the corners.

“This place is cursed,” one of the assassins muttered, his eyes scanning the walls, which were covered in cryptic, swirling symbols.

Mandarin ignored him. His attention was consumed by the task at hand. The castle was a maze of twisting corridors, yet no matter how far they went, there was no sign of Victor. Not a trace. The equipment, footprints, clean kitchen and bedroom, and the warm fireplace... Everything seemed to suggest someone had been here recently, but where was he?

After hours of searching the vast labyrinth of the castle, the squad regrouped in the central chamber. The massive mirror that Victor had once stood before stood at the center, its obsidian frame casting long shadows on the walls. The mirror's glass was undisturbed, yet something felt... off. The reflection seemed oddly still, almost as if mocking them. But no one noticed this eerie change; they were too focused on trying to find Victor.

"He's gone," Mandarin said, his voice a low growl. The frustration in his voice was palpable. "He's playing with us. But where?"

His fists clenched, and his eyes burned with rage. No one, no matter how powerful, could elude him for long.

"Search the mountain!" Mandarin barked. "Leave no stone unturned. He cannot have vanished into thin air."

Once more, the Ten Rings spread out, scouring the grounds beneath the castle, searching through the dense woods and across the cliffs, moving as fast as shadows in the night. The hours dragged on, but despite their best efforts, no trace of Victor was found.

As dawn approached, the assassins returned to the castle, defeated and exhausted. Their leader waited for them, his posture tense with anger. They had failed him. They were supposed to be the best of the best, but now they were nothing but a bunch of fools.

"What is this?" Mandarin hissed. "How can he not be here? Are you telling me this place has no secret tunnels or hidden passages?"

"Yes," one of the assassins replied, his voice wavering. "We searched every inch of this place. There's nothing."

Mandarin took a deep breath, his mind racing, trying to come up with a logical explanation. He couldn't believe that Victor had simply disappeared into thin air. His Ten Rings began to glow as he aimed his right hand toward the castle. A burst of purple energy shot out of his fist and struck the castle. There was no sound or explosion, but a simple sizzling sound. Within seconds, the castle began to disintegrate, layer by layer, until there was nothing left but an empty plot.

"I'll find you, Victor Von Doom," Mandarin promised. "Even if I have to tear this entire planet apart to do so."

And with that, he and his Ten Rings left the mountain.

[Meanwhile, inside the catacombs]

Victor sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor, surrounded by the faint green glow emanating from The Book of Elements. The air was still, save for the occasional crackle of magical energy flickering between his fingertips as he began to harness the ancient spells written within the tome. His sharp mind, honed by years of scientific rigor, now worked tirelessly to decipher and master the arcane.

The book lay open before him, its pages filled with complex sigils, swirling diagrams, and incantations written in the strange, ancient tongue. Yet as he read, the words seemed to rearrange themselves, forming coherent thoughts and phrases in his mind.

"Control the Elements, and you control the world," his mother’s voice echoed in his thoughts as he read one of her annotations.

Victor raised a hand, focusing intently. He recited the incantation etched into the page before him. The syllables were sharp and guttural, yet they felt natural in his mouth, as if they had always been there, waiting for this moment.

A spark of flame flickered to life in his palm, its heat warm but contained. He turned it over, marveling at the way the fire obeyed his will, shaping itself into a sphere, then a spiraling flame. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, the scientist in him fascinated by the interplay of magic and energy.

"Fire, a manifestation of pure energy," he muttered, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Yet it responds to thought, intention. This isn't just power—this is science rewritten."

Encouraged, he turned the page. The next spell described the manipulation of water. He reached out his hand again, and a stream of water began to form in the air, drawn from the very moisture of the chamber. It swirled and danced, its movements precise and graceful under his control.

Victor’s excitement grew as he continued to experiment. He summoned small gusts of wind, then shifted to command the very stones around him. Pebbles and chunks of rock lifted into the air, hovering for a moment before gently lowering back to the ground.

"Incredible! If I can merge magic and technology then... Who can even stop me?"

Here, in the depths of the earth, Victor was in his element. The knowledge of his lineage, the betrayal of Mephisto, and the imprisonment of his mother had awakened something within him. His mind, once preoccupied with the rational world, now fully embraced the impossible.

The green glow of the book brightened as he turned to a new section: Binding Rituals and Protective Wards.

...

[Back to Tony] [Malibu]

The next morning, the sunlight filtered through the windows, dragging Tony from a restless sleep. His body ached from the previous night’s workout, but his mind was sharper, focused. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and rubbed his temples.

“Alright, Hermes,” he said, his voice gravelly. “Tell me you’ve got something new for me.”

“Good morning, sir. Surveillance feeds expanded to a 50-mile radius. One anomaly detected offshore—an unregistered vessel lingering at the edge of international waters. It appears stationary.”

Tony’s brow furrowed. “What type of vessel?”

“Small, possibly a private yacht. No visible identifying markers, but thermal imaging indicates active systems on board.”

“Send a drone. I want visuals and a heat signature analysis. Let’s see if we can get a clearer picture of what’s going on...” A large yawn escaped his mouth as he rubbed his eyes.

“Drone dispatched. ETA: three minutes.”

Tony stood and stretched. He quickly freshened up and made his way to the workshop. The holographic interface was already lit up, displaying the trajectory of the drone as it approached the mysterious yacht.

The feed flickered to life, showing a black yacht anchored just outside legal boundaries. The design was minimal, modern, and far too advanced to be an ordinary yacht.

“Zoom in,” He commanded. The image adjusted, revealing faint movement on the deck—a single figure pacing, cloaked in a long coat. The heat signature analysis revealed more: at least three others were inside the vessel, their outlines faint but distinct.

“Well, this isn’t suspicious at all,” Tony muttered, narrowing his eyes. “Hermes, enhance audio. Let’s see if they’re chatty.”

The audio feed crackled to life, faint but discernible. A voice—sharp, clipped, with a faint Russian accent—spoke rapidly. Another voice responded, this one deeper, its words measured.

“...preparations nearly complete...timing must be perfect...Romanoff… We need to know what Stark is hiding in that facility.”

Tony’s stomach twisted at the mention of Natasha’s name. His instincts had been right. This wasn’t a coincidence.

“Record everything,” he ordered. “Cross-reference the voices with known aliases or operatives in the SHIELD database.”

“Processing, sir.”

As Hermes worked, Tony’s mind raced. He needs to amp up the new nanites' development and create a suit. Only then he would have enough power to face the threat.

“Hermes, reroute the drone to maintain a high-altitude observation position. I don’t want them noticing us yet.”

“Understood, sir.”

Tony leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the desk. “Alright, if they want to play spy games, let’s give them a show.”

He pulled up the plans for the restaurant, now legally his, and began designing modifications. Hidden cameras, microphones, and other surveillance tech would be installed in every corner of the building. He called the owner for the keys and hard copies of legal documents and asked him to meet at the restaurant within 30 minutes. Well, when money was involved, people did not argue.

Tony gathered his gadgets and locked the facility as usual. He went to the restaurant at the exact time of the meeting. The previous owner and his lawyer were already waiting outside. They greeted him and led him inside the building. After exchanging greetings and signing several important documents, the owner handed Tony the keys. They parted ways as quickly as they had met, and Tony was left alone in the silent restaurant.

"Well, let's see..." He took out his new customized phone and began to scan the place, hoping to find something. His intuition didn't let him down. Although he didn't find any bugs, he noticed some places under the tables and chairs had small clean spots. It was as if something had been placed there and removed recently.

He checked the props on the wall and it was the same. There were no bugs, but it looked like someone someone had come here before him and cleaned the place. Whoever it was, they were good at covering their tracks, but not good enough. Thanks to him buying the place, those agents had to work in a hurry to clean up the place.

'Oh, my. Would you look at that? How lovely...' He grinned. 'And so, the game begins.'

Tony spent the day installing hidden cameras and microphones throughout the restaurant, all linked to Hermes. Now, if anyone tried to mess with anything, he would know about it. He looked at his watch. It was 10 AM. He was supposed to meet up with Natasha at 2 PM. "Well, got enough time." He made sure everything was ready before he locked the place and decided to grab some fresh fruits and some groceries from the market. His freezer and kitchen cabinets were almost empty.

---

AN: Sorry, been a bit busy with work lately. I will release the next chapter tomorrow. As for the suit, it will be around Ch: 30.

[Spiderman] Ch: 9 [A chance of redemption]

Skarlet stood motionless, her crimson eyes locked onto the blood cocoon that pulsed faintly before her. Her blood tendrils slithered weakly, coiling and uncoiling like wounded serpents. The weight of the truth bore down on her, crushing the foundation of everything she had built her identity upon. Shao Kahn’s voice no longer echoed with the same conviction in her mind; it felt distant, like a fading nightmare.

Peter remained silent, standing a short distance away. His glowing blue eyes softened as he observed the conflict within her. He crossed his arms, his golden aura dimming slightly to give her room to confront her inner turmoil.

“You’re remembering, aren’t you?” He finally said in a soft tone.

Skarlet didn’t respond at first. Her hands trembled at her sides, and the swirling blood around her stilled, dropping to the ground in dull splashes. She looked over her shoulder at Peter, her expression a mix of rage, pain, and vulnerability.

“You don’t understand,” she said in a shaky voice. “Everything I am, everything I’ve done... it’s all been for him. Without him, what am I? A failure? A discarded experiment?”

'Sigh! She's confused and saying the same thing again. Gotta fix her. It'll be a waste to kill her. She's strong. If I can give her a purpose and a chance for redemption, Earth will gain another defender,' Peter shook his head and uncrossed his arms, taking a few steps toward her. Skarlet looked back at the cocoon, her eyes narrowing into a glare as she struggled against the emotions rising in her chest. "No. You are your own person." Peter said as he approached her from behind. "You’re Skarlet... a person, not a tool. And you’re not defined by what he made you into. You’re defined by the choices you make now."

She faced the cocoon once more; a haunting visage of herself at a fragile young age emerged in her. All the pangs of hunger, pain, and deception flashed through her mind like some fiendish symphony. She had accepted it for a long time - believing Shao Kahn had rescued her from that sordid existence, only to understand later that it was he who made her a slave to misery and molded her misery into an instrument for him to fulfill his ambitions.

Skarlet clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms. Blood dripped to the ground. "How do I even begin to undo this?" she whispered, to herself more than to Peter.

“You start by breaking the chains,” He replied. “The ones binding your mind, your heart... and your soul. It won’t be easy. It won’t happen overnight. But you’ve already taken the first step by questioning it all.”

The cocoon pulsed again, brighter this time. Skarlet flinched as she felt the emotions stirring within it. She felt fear, hope, and desperation. Her true self was calling out to her, begging for release.

Peter extended his hand, "Let me help you, Skarlet."

Skarlet hesitated, her crimson eyes flickering with doubt. She had never trusted anyone in her life. Trust was a weakness, a vulnerability Shao Kahn had taught her to exploit in others. But now, for the first time, she felt the faintest glimmer of something she hadn’t known in years: the possibility of hope.

“What happens if I let go? I am so afraid,” she asked, her voice barely audible.

"I can't tell you that. Only you can find out for yourself. But I can promise you that whatever happens... you won’t be alone. I won't abandon you or leave you to your fate. I'll help you, and I'll give you a chance to forge your own path."

Peter took another step toward her.

Her breath caught in her throat as she turned to the cocoon. Slowly, hesitantly, she raised her hands. The blood swirling around her body receded, sucking back into her form. The cocoon quivered as she reached out to it, her fingers brushing its surface.

As soon as her hand touched, the energy was transmitted through the empty space. Once more, memories began to flow in her mind—of her family, her strife, her change. But this time, she was not engulfed by them. Instead, they crystallized into one unassailable truth: she had been stolen from being in control of herself, of her identity, of her humanity.

“No more,” Skarlet whispered, her voice growing stronger. “No more lies. No more chains.”

With a sharp cry, she plunged her hands into the cocoon. The blood that bound her true self dissolved, releasing a brilliant burst of crimson and gold light. When the glow faded, Skarlet stood transformed.

Her crimson armor was gone, replaced by a simpler, more human appearance. Her pale skin was warm with color, her eyes still red but softer, less feral. Her expression was no longer one of cold arrogance but of weary determination.

Peter smiled faintly. “There you are.”

Skarlet looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers as if feeling them for the first time. The power of blood magic still coursed through her veins, but it no longer felt like a shackle. It was hers now, not Shao Kahn’s.

“What now?” she asked, meeting Peter’s gaze.

“Now,” Peter said, placing a hand on her shoulder, “you decide what you want to do with the life you’ve reclaimed. You have the power to be more than what he made you. Use it wisely.”

"I've taken so many lives... Slaughtered countless... Women, men, children, unborn... I am a monster." Skarlet said in a low voice, her eyes dimming with sadness. "I... can never be forgiven..."

"No, you can't," Peter said bluntly. "But at the same time, it's your so-called father's fault, not yours. You were made into a weapon; a weapon does not ask who it strikes. A blade does not wonder why it cuts or how it wounds. How can one blame the blade for the death it causes? The only person to blame is the one who wields it, and the one who forged it."

He grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes, "You don't need to be forgiven; you need to avenge. Avenge the lives Shao Kahn stole from you and so many others. Avenge those who were slaughtered because he deemed them weak or worthless. Make him pay for the misery he has inflicted on your life and the lives of others. And above all else, remember: you're no longer his weapon. You're now a defender of Earthrealm. We will fight together against those who seek to destroy it. Will you join me?"

"How can you trust me so easily? Aren't you afraid I'll turn on you?" Skarlet asked with uncertainty in her voice. "Or hurt those you care about? What if I am faking it all just to get close to you? How can you know for sure I'm not tricking you?"

Peter chuckled, "Because I can sense the truth. I can sense the pain and regret in your heart and see the desire for redemption in your eyes. I know that you are sincere and that you mean what you say. Besides, I can kill you just like that before you even lift a finger against anyone I care about regardless of where I am. Now, are you in or not?"

Skarlet took a deep breath and looked around the space. For the first time, she felt the blood of those she had killed, the blood of innocent people, flowing through her body, giving her strength. She decided to use her cursed power and the blood of those innocent people to kill Shao Kahn and make him pay for all the misery he had caused her and so many others.

She faced Peter, a determined expression on her face as she clenched her fists and nodded, "I want to be the one to plunge my blood sword through his black heart. I want to watch as his life drains away while knowing I was the one who ended him. I want to avenge my true family and the countless others he has slain and enslaved. I will stand by your side, Peter Parker, and we shall defeat the Emperor together."

"I look forward to fighting alongside you, Skarlet," Peter said with a smirk.

As the void began to dissolve, returning them to the alley where their battle had begun, Skarlet took a deep breath. The air smelled different now, less suffocating. The world felt... lighter.

"Now, I'm pretty sure you aren't here alone. Tell me everything..."

[Batman x Ironman] Ch: 71 [Namor vs Harley]

Harley hovered above the stormy waters, scanning the mayhem below. The Atlantic churned violently as huge waves clashed against each other and towering tornadoes spiraled into the sky. Amidst all this chaos, a figure emerged from the depths—Namor.

Wearing ornate armor that sparkled with an ethereal glow, he emerged from the sea, the ring on his hand vibrating faintly with energy. He was followed by an army of Atlanteans rising from the waves, and their weapons blazed with energy.

"You surface dwellers have polluted our oceans for too long!" Namor's voice bellowed through the storm. His eyes brimmed with fury. "This ring has shown me the way. The land shall suffer the wrath of the seas!"

Harley narrowed her eyes, her Kryptonian senses locking onto Namor. She wasn't in the mood for speeches. "Yeah, yeah. Big bad ocean guy wants revenge. Heard it all before. Let's skip to the part where I punch you."

Namor sneered. With a wave of his hand, the ocean itself seemed to rise, forming a colossal tidal wave that hurtled toward her.

Harley didn't bat an eye. She shot forward like a missile, her heat vision slicing through the wave and evaporating it in an instant. Steam hissed into the air as she closed the distance, her fist cocked back.

Namor dodged her punch with incredible speed, countering with a powerful strike of his own. The force sent Harley skidding across the surface of the water, but she recovered instantly, hovering above the waves.

“You’re fast,” she admitted, cracking her knuckles. “But I’m faster.”

Before Namor could respond, Harley was on him again, her movements a blur. She struck him with a flurry of punches, each blow landing with the force of a freight train. Namor grunted, his Atlantean durability keeping him in the fight, but he was clearly struggling to keep up.

“Is this all you’ve got?” She taunted, delivering a kick that sent him crashing into the ocean.

The water exploded upward as Namor reemerged, his eyes blazing with fury. He raised the hand wearing the ring, and the winds around them intensified. A massive waterspout formed, pulling Harley into its vortex. She fought against the pull, her Kryptonian durability allowing her to resist the wind's force. But Namor wasn't done. He summoned a school of Atlantean warriors who swarmed her, their tridents crackling with energy.

"Really? Henchmen?" Harley smirked, her eyes glowing red. "Fine. Let's make this quick."

In a blur of motion, she tore through warriors, her heat vision cutting clean through their gear and armor so easily. She grabbed one of the warriors and flung him into the other, that impact sending the two of them flying back. She punched and kicked, breaking their bones but didn't kill anyone yet.

'My Brucey gonna love it when he sees his Harl not killin' anyone and only breakin' bones,' She thought with a large grin. 'Maybe he'll give me a nice big smooch. Hehehe.'

Namor watched as his anger boiled up inside him. "Enough!" he roared, unleashing a powerful blast of wind. The force hit Harley and pushed her backward almost knocking her out of the sky.

She braced through gritted teeth. She never imagined the impact to be this hard. Still, it wasn't enough to hurt her. She pushed forward with her full strength. Her eyes glowed brighter with each step.

“You think you’re the only one with tricks?” she said, her voice cutting through the storm.

Namor's remaining warriors threw energy bolts toward her, it was useless against her Kryptonian durability. She used her heat vision to pierce through their arms and legs.

Harley unleashed her freeze breath, the icy blast catching Namor off guard. The water around him froze instantly, trapping him in a prison of ice.

But the victory was short-lived. The ring glowed brightly, and the ice shattered as Namor broke free. He surged toward her, his trident aimed at her chest.

Harley grabbed the weapon with one hand and stopped Namor. He tried to push forward with all his strength, but couldn't even move her a step back or snatch the weapon back. She sneered and wrenched the trident out of his hands, snapping it in two.

"Oops," she taunted.

"YOU WILL PAY!" Namor roared in rage, calling another enormous wave. This one had the ring's power, writhing with furious winds and shards of jagged ice.

Harley readied herself and dived straight into the wave, punching through it as if it were nothing. She came out the other side, fist connected with Namor's jaw in an uppercut that sent him soaring into the sky.

Not giving him a chance to recover, she shot after him, her speed leaving a sonic boom in her wake. She caught up to him mid-air, slamming him back toward the ocean with a double-handed strike.

Namor hit the water like a meteor, the impact creating a massive crater on the surface of the ocean.

Harley was hovering over him and cracked her fingers. "Had enough, fish boy?

Namor struggled to rise, his body battered but his healing factor kicked in. The ring glowed once more, and the winds around him surged with renewed fury.

"You cannot defeat me!" he snarled. "The power of the ring is infinite!"

"Yeah, well, so am I," Harley shot back. She flew toward him at full speed, her body glowing with energy as she prepared her final attack.

Namor countered, throwing a tornado at her. She plowed through it, not slowing a bit. Her fist connected with his chest and shattered the energy field of the ring, which sent a shockwave through his body.

The ring flickered. Its glow went dim as Harley grabbed Namor by the arm and yanked the ring off his finger.

The moment the ring left his hand, the storms ceased, the ocean calming almost instantly. Namor collapsed into the water.

Harley held the ring up, examining it. “Looks like you’re not so tough without this.”

Namor glared at her, his pride wounded but his spirit unbroken. “This isn’t over,” he growled. “The sea will rise again.”

“Sure it will,” She said, tossing the ring into a containment box. “But next time, try not to lose to someone who loves sushi.”

She activated her comms. “Hey, Bruce. Got the ring. And a very angry fish guy to boot.”

"Careful, Harl. That guy is insane and dangerous in the ocean. He can heal almost limitlessly and as long as he's in water, his strength and speed are amplified. He was under the Ring's influence so he might not have used his full power," Bruce warned.

"Thanks for the heads up, Batsy, but I think I'll be okay."

[Booom!!]

The ocean exploded upward, a massive waterspout forming before Harley could react. Namor rose from the sea, his eyes glowing with fury.

"I told you, surface-dweller," he sneered. "The sea will rise again!"

"No one likes a sore loser," Harley quipped. She flew toward Namor, her fist cocked back.

Namor summoned another waterspout, which pulled her into its vortex. Then he pulled her down under the surface of the ocean, her body crashing against relentless waves and pressure as Namor continued to pull her down.

Her durability kept her from drowning and breaking her bones. She managed to break free, her eyes glowing red.

"Okay, now you're starting to annoy me," she growled. She unleashed her heat vision, the blast cutting through the water like a hot knife through butter. The ocean boiled as the beam hit Namor directly in the chest, sending him flying backward. But his wounds healed almost instantly.

Harley wasn't done. She flew toward him, delivering a flurry of punches that would've shattered any normal human's bones. But Namor was anything but normal. He absorbed every hit without flinching, his Atlantean durability keeping him in the fight.

"Your tricks won't save you now!" He roared. "I am the king of the oceans! Nothing can defeat me underwater!"

Harley responded with a powerful uppercut. Namor's body shot up from the ocean's bed, rocketing to the surface. Harley shot before him and another punch sent him straight up into the sky. She grabbed his face and dived down back into the ocean, but this time the impact was so hard that the water itself seemed to explode in every direction. The waves crashed violently, sending debris and sea life flying in all directions. The water scattered from the point of impact as Namor's body crashed onto the sea bed. Harley didn't stop there, she landed before him.

Boom! Her landing created another wave of shockwaves that prevented the water from settling down. Harley punched Namor's face, breaking his jaws and nose, then she punched his shoulders and his ribs, breaking his bones. Each punch created ripples in the air, preventing the water from converging at the point of impact.

Namor's vision blurred as his body screamed in pain. His healing factor worked overtime to repair the damage but it was no match for the damage she was inflicting. He was losing and he knew it.

Baaam! Harley stomped on his crotch, "There goes your family jewels."

Namor let out a pained cry.

"How dare you dirty my new suit?" She grabbed the broken Namor by his throat and flew up into the sky.

Blood dripped from his mouth as Namor struggled to stay conscious.

"Not so strong now, are you, fish boy?" she sneered.

"Go to hell!" He growled through gritted teeth.

Baam! Another punch from Harley made him cough out more blood.

Bruce and the others arrived at the location and saw that Harley had taken care of the situation.

[HP: Potion Master] Ch: 4 [Molly's ass]

AN: Don't read if you are not into master/slave segs. For> Milfyhunterr23

Bro want me to rewrite this one with a proper start. Let's see what I can do.

===

Harry took out two potion vials. He drank one to regain his stamina and poured one in Molly's mouth for her stamina because the night was still long. She gulped it down without wasting any time and immediately began to feel the effects.

She sat up and went on her knees, "Are you going to fuck my loose pussy, master?" Molly asked with a pleading and hungry voice. She spread her legs apart and showed her cunt, all wet and dripping. Her pussy lips were open, and the pink inner flesh was exposed. She was ready. Ready to get fucked, hard. She was so horny, she was practically begging for his cock.

"Beg me, slut. Beg to get fucked, like the slutty, loose pussy you are!" He spat on her. The spittle landed right on her nose. It was the most humiliating thing that could ever happen to a pureblood lady. But here she was, a pureblood, MILF, and a former Order member, sitting in front of her son's friend and begging to be fucked like a bitch.

"Master, please, fuck me. Fuck this filthy, loose and old pussy, please, fill it up with your cum and let me know my worth, Master." Her cunt was literally leaking now, and the fluid was running down her legs. Her juices were pooling on the floor. She wanted him. Needed him, now. "Fuck me, please, Master."

"Look at you, slut. You are nothing but a hole, and even that's not useful anymore. Why should I fuck your loose and useless cunt? Huh, tell me, bitch!" He laughed.

"Please, Master. I can't live without you. Please, I'll do anything for you. My body is yours, and please, please, just give me your cum, please. Please, Master." Tears were running down her eyes.

Harry smirked. "Humm... What should I do? Well, why not? I think you've suffered enough," He said, grinning, and stood up. "Turn around. Let me see that fat ass of yours. Present it to me. Show me how a loose bitch begs for her master's cock."

Molly was a mess. She turned around and bent over, exposing her bare ass and her dripping wet cunt. Her legs were spread, and her hands were spreading her butt cheeks open, revealing her loose hole. But Harry noticed that her asshole looked tight and unused.

"Oh, my. Would you look at that? You got a nice little tight asshole. Your husband never fucked it, did he?" He asked.

"No, Master. No one's ever touched my asshole," she replied.

"Good. That means I'm the first one," he said, grinning. "Stay like that, and don't move an inch," he ordered. Then, Harry knelt down behind her. He brought his hand closer and rubbed his index finger on her ass crack, then slowly inserted it in her asshole. It felt warm and tight. His finger entered her easily. He began moving his finger in and out, and soon, she started moaning. Her ass was so tight, but the pleasure was indescribable.

"Ahhh... Master," Molly moaned, feeling his finger inside her ass.

"Yes, you like it, don't you, slut? Dry, loose cunt, but a tight asshole. Oh, I love it," He took his wand and pointed at her ass, and used a spell, creating lube on his fingers and Molly's ass. Harry rubbed the lube on his cock and on her asshole, then he grabbed her waist and slammed his cock in with a single hard thrust.

Molly screamed. Harry's cock was much bigger than his finger. The pain was intense. She could feel his cock stretching her asshole open. She was screaming, but Harry didn't stop. He just kept slamming his cock in and out of her ass, and Molly was screaming, and moaning. Soon, her screams turned into moans of pleasure. The pain was gone. She was enjoying it now.

Harry was moaning and groaning, and his thrusts were becoming more and more violent. His hands were holding her tightly, and he was slamming his cock into her asshole, harder and harder, and faster and faster. Her body was shaking, and she was moaning and screaming, and her eyes were rolling back. She was on the verge of passing out.

Slap! Slap! Slap! The sound of his hips hitting her butt cheeks filled the room. It was a loud and clear sound, and it was music to Harry's ears.

"Yes, yes, yes! Fuck my ass, Master. Fuck it hard, fuck it good, fuck it raw," Molly screamed. "You're the best, Master. You're the best."

"Tell me, who's the master?" He grunted.

"You're the master. You're my master," she moaned.

"Tell me, who owns this dirty, loose pussy? Who owns this fat ass?" He demanded with a hard spank that made her flappy ass ripple.

"You do, Master. You own me, you own everything. My cunt, my ass, my tits, everything is yours," Molly moaned.

"Hahahaha... Look at you. You are doing all this just to get the youth potion. Such a slutty and shameless whore you are!"

"Yes, yes. I'm a slut, Master. I'm a dirty, loose-pussy whore. I'm a slutty and shameless piece of flesh and a worthless slut."

Harry pulled his cock out and saw the gaping asshole, dripping with lube and his precum. It looked beautiful, and he couldn't resist. He inserted his cock again and continued pounding. Molly was screaming and moaning, and Harry was grunting and groaning, and the room was filled with their moans and screams.

He was getting close to cumming. His cock was throbbing and pulsating, and his balls were twitching.

"Do it, Master. Cum in my ass. Cum in my dirty, loose, slutty hole. Fill me with your cum, Master," Molly moaned.

"That's exactly what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna cum in your ass. I'm gonna cum in your disgusting, filthy ass. I'm gonna fill you with my cum. I'm gonna make you my cumbucket," he growled.

"Yes, yes. Do it, Master. Make me your cumbucket," she begged.

Harry's body was covered with sweat. His heart was racing. He was getting closer and closer to orgasm.

"Here it comes, slut. Here it comes," he moaned.

And then, Harry came. His cock erupted inside her ass, and he released a massive load. His cum was spurting and flowing inside her ass. His body was shaking, and his cock was pulsating and twitching. Molly was screaming and moaning, and the pleasure was so intense that she lost consciousness.

Her limp and unconscious body fell forward, with his dick slipping out of her asshole.

Harry was panting, and his heart was pounding. His cock was soft, and his cum was oozing out of her gaping hole. He sat down, and after a few minutes, he regained his strength and stamina.

"Oh, look at this slut. She passed out, the stupid whore." He slapped her cheek, and that was enough to bring her back from the world of unconsciousness.

"Huh... Oh, Master. Sorry, I lost control, it was so intense," Molly mumbled, barely able to talk.

"I know, slut. Now, clean me up," He grabbed her hair and pulled her head towards his semi-flaccid cock, "Lick it. Clean my cock. Use your mouth and tongue," Harry ordered her.

Molly did as she was told. She used her mouth and tongue to lick and suck his cock. She licked and sucked his cock, and her tongue and mouth cleaned his cock. After a few minutes, his cock was completely clean.

"Good, now, go clean up and sleep. We'll talk more tomorrow."

[Ironman] Ch: 24 [Victor's origin]

Victor started to walk down the stone steps, his footsteps echoing in the tight hallway. The air got colder as he went deeper, with a slight smell of dirt and old things. Green crystals on the walls gave off a strange light, lighting up the detailed carvings that twisted along the path. "What are these symbols?" He traced his hand along the carvings as he walked. He had never seen anything like them before. He muttered to himself, “What were you hiding, old man?”

The stairs finally ended in a vast underground chamber. Victor had never seen anything like it before. The ceiling was very high, with glowing green crystals shining brightly. The walls were filled with old, mysterious symbols carved deeply into the stone. In the middle of the room, there was a big, ornate mirror. Its frame was made of blackened metal, engraved with serpents and wolves. The glass reflected the dim light but, in that reflection, Victor felt something living in the glass, something that watched.

Around the chamber were shelves carved into the walls, filled with dusty books and scrolls. A heavy wooden desk sat to one side, piled with more books and strange artifacts. On the desk, Victor’s eyes fell on a red leather diary. Next to it was a faded photograph in a simple frame. The picture showed a younger man with piercing eyes and a sharp, proud face. Victor recognized the man instantly—it was his grandfather.

He picked up the photograph and stared at it for a moment. He never knew his grandfather that well and barely met him twice, but for some reason, he left this place to him just before his death. Victor couldn't wait to find out the secret. He placed the photo frame down and picked up the red leather diary, his heart pounding with anticipation. The old brittle leather cover cracked as Victor opened the book. The yellow pages were filled with his grandfather's neat handwriting.

The first page bore his grandfather’s name, and below it, a title that sent a chill through Victor’s spine: The Truth of the Von Doom Lineage.

Victor sat down, his curiosity overwhelming his frustration. He began to read, his heart pounding with each word.

The diary detailed his family’s history, a story hidden from him his entire life. He learned that he was born to a tribe of Romani people in Latveria, ruled by a cruel nobleman known only as the Baron. His mother, Cynthia Van Damme, had been a witch of great power. She had made a dangerous pact with Mephisto, a demon who betrayed her, leading to her death when Victor was just a child. His father, Werner Van Damme, had been a skilled healer, known and respected throughout the land. After Cynthia’s death, the Baron’s wife fell gravely ill, and Werner was called to treat her. When his efforts failed and the woman died, the Baron accused him of murder. Werner fled with Victor, taking him far from the Baron’s wrath.

Victor’s father had changed their surname to Von Doom, hiding their true identity to protect them both. But the secrets ran even deeper. The diary revealed that their bloodline could be traced back to Vlad Tepes Dracula himself. Victor felt a strange sense of both pride and dread as he read. He realized now why he had always felt different. If what the diary said was true, he was not just a Romani boy raised in fear of his shadowed past, but a descendant of one of the most infamous vampires in history.

He closed the diary and leaned back in the chair. His mind was racing. Everything he thought he knew about himself, his family, and his past had been a lie. The failures of his life, the anger he carried... They were all pieces of a puzzle he had never been allowed to see. Now, for the first time, he saw the full picture.

All those scary dreams about magic and evil spirits might actually be connected to a secret his family has been keeping from him. As someone who believes in science, it all seemed like a made-up story. But after reading his grandfather's diary, he couldn't ignore it anymore. The diary helped him understand things about himself that he never could before.

"Mephisto, eh?" He stood up after gathering his thoughts. "How much of it is truth? I need more proof."

Victor turned his attention to the large mirror in the center of the chamber. It was ornate and elegant, with a swirling black frame that seemed to have been carved from obsidian. The surface was smooth and shiny, like polished black stone. Victor touched the edge of the frame with his fingers, feeling a strange, tingling feeling on his skin. It seemed as if someone was calling to him from the other side of the glass, urging him to take the last step into a world he could never have imagined.

The idea was absurd, yet as he stared into the depths of the mirror, he could almost see something moving in its reflection. Something ancient and powerful. Something that had been waiting for him all this time.

"What is this place?" He asked out loud, although there was no one else in the room to answer him. The question seemed to hang there for a moment, unanswered. Then, gradually, the glass of the mirror began to ripple, as though it were a pool of water disturbed by a pebble. The ripples spread across the glass, and in them, Victor began to see images. They were images of a place that looked like the catacombs of a castle, a place filled with dark secrets and ancient power.

A thought stuck in his mind. What if magic is real? And there was no denying what he was seeing right before his eyes. What if this was his destiny from the beginning? All those failures and sufferings have led him to this point, his origin story. He knew it was impossible, but that's the whole point of science, right? To find answers to the impossible questions? Victor's heart pounded with excitement as he reached out and placed his hand against its cool surface. The glass rippled beneath his touch, and he could feel something within it reaching out to him.

"What?!" He didn't even have time to react before being sucked into the mirror. He felt as though he was going through a long, dark tunnel. A flash of light burst through, and he was in the middle of the catacombs.

The cold air of the underground tomb sent shivers down his spine. Victor looked around, taking in his surroundings. The walls were lined with stone coffins, each one decorated with elaborate carvings of demons and monsters. He could feel the unnatural pressure pressing down on him as if he were stepping into a place that had been forgotten for centuries.

"Arg!" He put his hand over his nose. The air was thick with dust and the smell of decay, making it hard to breathe.

A faint green glow caught his attention. It was a book, its pages open and weathered by time was lying on the ground. He walked over and as he touched it, he felt a strange warmth beneath his fingertips. The book glowed with an eerie green light, illuminating the catacombs. Victor picked it up and read the cover:

The Book of Elements.

He opened the book. It was written in a language that was foreign to him. Yet for some reason, he could understand what it said.

His eyes widened when he read the first page. It was a message from his mother...

 The words, though written in an ancient, swirling script, flowed into his mind as if they were whispered directly into his thoughts. It was his mother’s voice he heard. It was gentle, yet urgent, as though the words had been waiting for him all this time. Even his cold heart ached.

---

My dearest Victor

If you are reading this, then you have discovered the truth of our lineage, and fate has led you to this place. Know that I loved you deeply, even if our time together was tragically short. You were but a child when I was taken, and not a day has passed in this cursed existence that I do not yearn to hold you again. I have left this book for you—a record of my life, my knowledge, and my warnings. Within these pages, you will find the spells and secrets I mastered, tools that you will need to survive the dark road ahead.

---

Victor swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion.

---

You come from a line of strength and suffering. Our blood carries the gifts of magic and resilience, but it also bears a curse. Be wary of demons, Victor, especially one named Mephisto. He is a deceiver, a tormentor who twists the hopes of mortals into their doom. I... I fell victim to his promises, foolishly believing I could protect you and our people through his power. Instead, I brought ruin upon us all.

---

The green light from the book flickered like a dying flame, and Victor’s vision blurred as tears welled up in his eyes.

---

The pact I made with him cost me my life—but not my soul. He betrayed me, as all demons do, and dragged me into the depths of hell. I am alive, Victor, though I am bound here, imprisoned by his will. If you are reading this, then I beg you: do not follow in my footsteps. Do not let anger and vengeance cloud your judgment as it did mine. There are forces in this world darker than you can imagine, and they will seek to use you for their own ends.

---

Victor clenched his fists, rage simmering beneath his sorrow. His mother was alive? Imprisoned in hell by the very demon who had orchestrated her demise? He would not let her remain there.

The message continued, her voice growing more serious.

---

This book holds my life's work. Each spell, each ritual, is a key that can unlock power beyond mortal comprehension. But power is a double-edged sword, my son. Wield it wisely, or it will consume you. Above all, remember this: You have the strength to forge your own path, to rise above the curses of our bloodline. You are not defined by the darkness that surrounds you. You are my son, and you are stronger than you know.

---

Victor closed the book, taking a deep breath. His mind reeled with everything he had just learned. His mother was alive, imprisoned in hell. She had left this book for him, a record of her life's work—a record of spells and rituals that could unlock power beyond mortal comprehension.

He knew what he had to do. He would find a way to break her out of Mephisto's grasp. He forgot about his own fame and fortune, which seemed so trivial now. The only thing that mattered was getting his mother back and killing the demon for all the pain and suffering he had caused.

[Batman x Ironman] Ch: 70 [The Last Loop]

Words: 2.5k

---
Location: Higher dimension

Dr. Strange hovered in the midst of the chaos, the air around him crackling with mystic energy as he unleashed spells with precision and ferocity. His crimson Cloak of Levitation flared behind him, weaving and darting as it dodged attacks aimed at his back. Below him, the battlefield stretched for miles, a hellscape of blood and fire. The ground was littered with the wreckage of war, shattered weapons, fallen warriors, and smoldering ruins of Asgardian outposts.

Beside him, Odin All-Father wielded Gungnir, his enchanted spear. Every thrust and swing emitted waves of golden light, incinerating scores of Parademons and Demon Shock Troopers. The ancient king was a whirlwind of destruction, his one eye blazing with fury as he led the Asgardian forces against the endless tide.

"Strange!" Odin bellowed over the din, driving Gungnir through the chest of a hulking Pacifier, a ten-foot-tall monstrosity wielding dual plasma axes. "These creatures bear the stench of the Old Gods' corruption. Do your spells detect the source of this power?"

Dr. Strange gestured with his hands, forming intricate sigils of light that lashed out at the horde around him. The spells carved through the enemy lines, giving the Asgardian warriors some breathing room. "I'm trying, Odin, but this energy is… unfamiliar. It's as if the fabric of reality itself is warped around them. Someone or something is fueling them with power beyond anything I've encountered."

The Ancient One appeared beside Strange in a swirl of golden sparks, her calm demeanor a sharp contrast to the chaos around them. Her hands moved with practiced grace, creating protective barriers that shielded the Asgardian troops from incoming blasts. "You’re correct, Stephen. This energy is not just dark—it’s ancient. It predates even the Old Gods. Whatever its source, it has given Darkseid the means to create an army that defies death itself."

From the sky above, a massive boom echoed as Thor descended like a comet, Mjolnir in hand. Lightning crackled around him as he landed amidst a cluster of Dog Cavalry, his hammer sweeping in wide arcs. The ground trembled with each strike, thunderclaps ripping through the battlefield. "Darkseid hides behind his creations!" Thor roared, his voice carrying across the battlefield. "If he were truly a god, he would face us himself!"

Odin glanced toward his son, his voice sharp. "Thor, focus! The battle is not with Darkseid yet. We need to hold the line here, or his army will reach the heart of this realm."

Thor growled but heeded his father’s command, throwing himself back into the fray.

Above the battlefield, the sky itself seemed to darken. A massive portal opened, and from it poured another wave of Darkseid's forces. Parademons swarmed out in endless numbers, accompanied by towering Pacifiers and heavily armored Demon Shock Troopers. Riding above them were new horrors, winged beasts wreathed in shadow, their riders armed with weapons forged from the same unknown energy.

Dr. Strange clenched his jaw. "It’s like fighting the ocean," he muttered, casting a spell that created an enormous glyph beneath a cluster of enemies. The ground exploded upward, engulfing them in a vortex of fire and stone.

Odin stepped beside him, his face grim. "If we cannot find the source of this power, this war will not end. Even Asgard's strength is not infinite."

Suddenly, the ground beneath them trembled violently. A massive Pacifier, nearly the size of a mountain, emerged from the distance. Its hulking form gleamed with obsidian plating, and its glowing red eyes locked onto the Asgardian stronghold. The monstrous figure took a single step, and the shockwave sent troops on both sides stumbling.

"By the Norns," Odin muttered. "This is no ordinary construct."

The Ancient One's eyes narrowed as she focused on the towering figure. "This one is different. It is imbued with a fragment of Darkseid’s will. A piece of his essence animates it."

"Then it’s as close to fighting Darkseid as we’re going to get," Strange said, summoning the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak. He hurled the glowing chains toward the giant, wrapping them around its legs. The Pacifier roared, tearing against the bindings, but they held—at least for the moment.

Thor joined the fray, leaping into the air and hurling Mjolnir with all his might. The enchanted hammer struck the Pacifier’s head, shattering part of its armor and sending it reeling. Thor followed up with a barrage of lightning, but the monster hardly faltered, its wounds already beginning to mend.

Odin raised Gungnir, golden light pouring from the spear’s tip as he unleashed a devastating beam of energy. The blast struck the Pacifier square in the chest, forcing it back several steps. But even this was not enough to bring it down.

As the gods and sorcerers focused their efforts on the colossal enemy, the Ancient One suddenly gasped. Her hands froze mid-spell, and her usually serene expression turned to one of shock.

"What is it?" Strange asked, concern in his voice.

She turned to him, her voice urgent. "I felt something... someone. A familiar presence. It was faint, but unmistakable."

"Who?" Strange pressed, even as he continued to hurl spells at the encroaching horde.

"Darkseid’s power may not be the only force at work here," she said, her voice heavy with implication. "There is another… and their influence is spreading."

Before Strange could respond, the massive Pacifier roared again, shattering the Chains of Cyttorak and swinging its colossal arm toward the stronghold. The gods and warriors braced themselves for impact.

From somewhere beyond the battlefield, a deep, resonant voice echoed across the realm.

"ENOUGH."

The voice carried such authority that the very air seemed to vibrate with its power. The battlefield fell silent for a moment, the endless hordes of Darkseid’s army freezing in place. From the shadows beyond the horizon, a figure stepped forward—a towering silhouette wreathed in a faint, golden light.

It was Zuras, the High Eternal, flanked by an elite guard of Eternals, their eyes glowing with cosmic energy.

"It seems we have more than one war to fight," Zuras said, his voice calm but firm. He turned his gaze toward Strange, Odin, and the Ancient One. "Darkseid’s corruption spreads further than we anticipated. But we are not without allies."

Strange’s eyes narrowed as he studied the High Eternal. "If you’re here, then you know something we don’t. What is Darkseid really after?"

Zuras glanced at the sky, where the silhouette of Darkseid’s new Apokolips loomed like a second moon. "Not just domination," he said, his voice grim. "He seeks the ultimate weapon. A power so ancient and destructive that even the Celestials once feared it."

Odin gripped Gungnir tightly. "Then we must destroy him before he finds it."

Zuras shook his head. "You don’t understand. He’s not searching for it."

The High Eternal’s eyes met Strange’s.

"He’s building it."

The weight of Zuras’ words settled over the battlefield like a suffocating cloud. Dr. Strange’s expression darkened, his mind racing. "He’s building it? What kind of weapon are we talking about?"

Zuras stepped closer, his cosmic aura intensifying as he waved a hand. A shimmering projection appeared in the air, depicting a massive, celestial structure being forged on the surface of Darkseid’s new Apokolips. At its center was a glowing core of unfathomable energy, pulsing with ominous intent. Strange and Odin could feel the raw power radiating from the projection as if it were right in front of them.

"This," Zuras said, pointing to the projection, "is what Darkseid calls the Omega Forge. Using the energy of countless conquered worlds, he’s constructing a weapon capable of reshaping reality itself. The core you see is what fuels it: an artifact older than the Multiverse. The Shard of Entropy. Its power is limitless."

Odin’s face tightened. "The Shard of Entropy is a myth. A remnant of the First Firmament, said to have been destroyed eons ago when the multiverse was born."

"It is no myth," the Ancient One interjected, her voice grave. "I’ve felt its presence before... fragments of its essence scattered across dimensions. If Darkseid has gathered enough of it to forge a weapon… we may be facing the end of all things."

Thor, who had been silent until now, stepped forward, his grip on Mjolnir tightening. "Then we go to this new Apokolips and destroy the Forge before it can be completed. I’ll lead the charge!"

"Reckless as always," Odin growled. "We cannot charge blindly into Darkseid’s domain. His armies are endless, and even the strongest of us would falter under their numbers."

Zuras raised a hand, silencing the debate. "We will need more than brute strength or clever magic. The Forge’s power comes not just from the Shard of Entropy, but from something or someone amplifying its reach. The artifact alone cannot channel this energy. Someone must be guiding it."

Dr. Strange frowned. "And you suspect Darkseid has help?"

Zuras nodded. "Not just help. He has aligned himself with forces that defy even the gods. Entities that once existed beyond creation itself. This energy signature," he gestured to the glowing projection, "is disturbingly similar to the power of a Celestial. But it is corrupted. Twisted."

"Impossible," Odin muttered. "No Celestial would serve Darkseid willingly."

"Not willingly," Zuras agreed. "But there are ways to enslave even the most ancient of beings. If Darkseid has subjugated one of the Celestials or worse, forged one into the foundation of his Forge then we are facing a power none of us can overcome alone."

Thor slammed the butt of Mjolnir into the ground. "Then let us find this enslaved Celestial and free it. Without its power, the Forge will be useless."

"That may be easier said than done," the Ancient One cautioned. "If the Shard of Entropy is involved, freeing the Celestial might destabilize the entire multiverse. The Forge’s collapse could trigger a cascade of destruction."

Zuras turned to Dr. Strange. "Which is why we must tread carefully. Considering your intellect and future vision, I'm sure you must have taken certain steps. Tell me, what are our chances against Darkseid with what we have?"

Strange frowned, his mind racing as he calculated the odds. The numbers were not in their favor, but there was one crucial factor they hadn't considered—a wild card that could turn the tide in their favor. At that exact moment, he felt the seals he used to lock the Ten Rings breaking one after another.

"Now isn't the right time. He needs more time. Time we must provide by holding him back," he said, eyes on Zuras.

"What are you talking about?" Odin asked, turning to him.

"If I tell you the future then it won't happen, and with our current situation, that future is the only hope we have," He turned to Thor. "Go back to Earth. He'll find you the moment you enter the Sol System. The rest is up to him. Ten years is all we can buy him."

"Ten years!?" Odin shouted. "We don't have ten years! We may not even have tomorrow!"

Dr. Strange stepped forward as he for the first time took out the Time Stone from the Eye of Agamotto and held it with his hand. He instantly felt the raw endless power flowing through him, trying to swallow his existence, but he held on. "I'll create a time loop, long enough to stall the universe's end and give him enough time to master the full extent of his powers. He has the potential, but it will take time."

"It will kill you," The Ancient One warned.

"It might." Strange glanced at her with a smile. "But if Darkseid wins, we're all dead anyway. I'll die, but the world will live. Is it worth it?"

Odin glanced at his son who had been silent throughout the entire conversation. "Thor, do as he says. If he's right, we have no choice."

Thor nodded, understanding that this was the only way. Odin opened a portal to Midgard and Thor leaped through it, disappearing in a flash of lightning.

"Your sacrifice will be honored," Zuras said solemnly.

"Make sure it isn't in vain."

Dr. Strange opened a direct portal to the new Apokolips and turned to Zuras and the Ancient One. "When this is all over, tell him. I'm sorry for everything. But this was the only way."

The Ancient One nodded in understanding as Dr. Strange closed the portal behind him.

In the distance, the colossal Pacifier let out a roar as it resumed its march toward the Asgardian stronghold.

...

[New Apokolips]

Dr. Strange stepped out of the portal onto an unfamiliar world, his senses overwhelmed by the sheer amount of power radiating from the dark skies. Everywhere he looked, there were hulking fortresses, massive factories, and endless armies of Parademons, all laboring tirelessly to bring Darkseid's vision to life. The air was thick with the stench of death and decay, and the ground beneath his feet trembled with the unrelenting force of Darkseid's war machine.

He sensed the presence of Darkseid inside the tallest building.

Strange clenched his fists, summoning the power of the Time Stone. The artifact's emerald glow filled his veins, and he felt his consciousness expanding, his awareness extending across the Multiverse. The endless possibilities stretched before him—an infinite number of realities, all playing out in perfect harmony. He could see the threads of fate, weaving and unraveling with each decision, each action. He could see the paths that led to victory, and the paths that led to oblivion. And in that moment, he knew what he had to do.

Strange began to cast the spell that would seal his fate—the spell that would trap him and the entire Apokolips in a loop of time, stretching on for ten years. A loop that would consume his very essence, but allow those who still had hope to survive. Had it been any other demon, like Dormammu, he could have created an infinite loop, but this being, Darkseid was on a different level, a level he couldn't match, not without a sacrifice.

As Strange continued to cast the spell, he felt a presence materialize behind him. He turned, coming face-to-face with the monstrous figure of Darkseid. The Dark God's eyes glowed with an unearthly red light, and his expression was one of pure malice.

"Well done, sorcerer," Darkseid said, his voice low and powerful. "You came to me on your own accord and with the Time Stone no less. I'll tear you apart for delaying my plans and take that Stone out of your corpse." Two bright beams of red light shot out of Darkseid's eyes and engulfed Dr. Strange, killing him on the spot. The Time Stone was floating before him. But as he tried to grab the Stone, everything rewinded.

Dr. Strange reappeared alive once again. Darkseid's eyes widened as he realized what was happening. He killed Strange again with his Omega Beams. Yet again, Strange reappeared. This time, Darkseid punched him in the face with a giant fist, sending him flying before he hit the ground and died. Again, everything rewinded and Strange appeared alive once again.

"What is this!?" Darkseid roared as he attacked Strange again and again, but no matter how many times he killed him, Strange kept reappearing.

The loop continues...

[Spiderman] Ch: 8 [Blinded by lies]

Peter tilted his head, his glowing blue eyes narrowing with pity. “Skarlet,” he began, his voice calm. “I know exactly what you’re going through. You think serving Shao Kahn is your purpose, your reason for existing. But deep down, you’re just afraid. Afraid of what happens if you lose his recognition.”

Skarlet sneered, summoning more blood to swirl around her in tendrils. “You know nothing of me! Of the pain I’ve endured! Shao Kahn is my creator, my god! Without him, I would be nothing but a pile of blood and bone! My one and only purpose is to serve him.” She threw multiple blood daggers at him, but Peter simply stopped and deflected them with a swipe of his hand.

He smirked bitterly. “Oh, I know pain, Skarlet. More than you think. You’re not the only one who’s been experimented on, twisted, and reshaped by someone else’s hand.” His eyes glowed brighter as memories from his past life surged forth. Lab experiments. Needles. Endless hours of torment under white fluorescent lights. Screams. “I’ve been there. Torn apart, poisoned, my blood, marrow, and meat extracted while I was alive... All that pain... As a result, I got a new life and power." He clenched his fists, remembering the past and what Sims did. "People like Shao Kahn think they own you just because they gave you power.”

Skarlet faltered, her blood tendrils twitching. “You’re lying. You... Stop it!” She lashed out with her tendrils, but they weren't that strong and were easily destroyed by him.

Peter stepped closer, his golden aura intensifying, forcing her to shield her eyes from the brightness. “I’m not lying. You’re just too scared to admit that we’re the same. The difference is, I didn’t let the people who hurt me define me. I didn’t let them own my soul. I killed them all... I slaughtered them all for all the pain and agony they put me through. But you...”

He took another step forward, his tone softening, almost compassionate.

“You’re clinging to Shao Kahn’s shadow because it’s all you’ve ever known. But let me tell you something, Skarlet. You don’t need him. You don’t need anyone to tell you who you are. You can be more than a weapon. More than his puppet.”

Skarlet’s hands trembled, her crimson eyes flickering with uncertainty. “You... you don’t understand,” she whispered. “Without him, I am nothing. I was made for him, to serve him."

“No,” He said, shaking his head. “You were made to exist. And that means you have the power to choose who you are. Just like I chose. Do you really think Shao Kahn cares about you? He’s used you, like a tool, like a thing. He doesn’t see you. He doesn’t care about what you want.”

Her breath hitched. For a moment, her blood magic faltered, the swirling tendrils falling to the ground in dark, sticky puddles. “No,” she said weakly. “He gave me everything. Without him...”

“Without him, you’ll be free,” Peter interrupted, his voice firm. “Free to be whoever you want to be. I get it. It’s terrifying. I was scared too when I realized I didn’t have to be what they made me. But you know what? Freedom’s worth it. It’s worth fighting for.”

Skarlet’s gaze hardened, but there was a flicker of doubt in her eyes. “You talk as if you know me, as if you can just waltz in here and fix what I am.”

Peter sighed. “I’m not here to fix you. I’m here to show you the truth. You’ve been conditioned to believe Shao Kahn’s approval is everything, but deep down, you know that’s a lie.” His voice dropped to a whisper, laced with empathy. “Skarlet, when was the last time you felt joy? Not power. Not pride. But real joy, something that made you feel alive?”

She froze, her mind racing. Joy? The word felt foreign, alien. Her entire existence had revolved around bloodshed, loyalty, and pain. Joy had no place in her world. And yet, for a fleeting moment, she wondered. 'Was there more? Could there be more?'

Peter took advantage of her silence, his tone soft but unrelenting. “You’re not a pile of blood and bone, Skarlet. You’re a person. And people are more than their pain. You deserve to live for yourself, not for someone else’s twisted ambitions. And if you think what I just said are lies, then allow me to show you the real truth..."

Before she could say or do anything, she found herself standing in a bloody room. Everything was red and there was blood everywhere. Next came the flood of memories.

"Gaahhh!" She grabbed her head. Her vision blurred for a moment. But when it cleared, she saw someone before her.

Her real self, fragile and vulnerable, lay trapped within a crimson cocoon of blood magic, suspended and helpless as if buried deep beneath layers of her own creation. Before the cocoon stood the new Skarlet, the warrior shaped by Shao Kahn’s will. She was a figure of strength and brutality, yet her foundation seemed to tremble as forgotten memories began to seep into the cracks.

The memories came like a flood, unstoppable and vivid. She was a starving wretch on the streets of Outworld, her ribs pressing against her skin, her clothes in tatters. Her hands trembled as she rummaged through refuse piles, desperate for a scrap of food. Hunger gnawed at her insides while despair weighed down her spirit. She remembered the icy stares of the passersby, their contempt for the weak clear in their eyes.

Then came the moment she was taken in by Shao Kahn himself. His towering form, his voice that was both terrifying and mesmerizing, his promise of power and purpose. She clung to his words as if they were salvation. He spoke of greatness, of transforming her from a pitiful wretch into someone strong, someone worthy of standing beside him. Through his dark sorcery, he infused her with power, a process that reshaped her physically and mentally. He taught her the forbidden art of Blood Magik, honing her into a weapon capable of slaughtering armies. The pain of his rituals was unimaginable, but she endured, believing she had finally found her purpose.

But beneath those memories, others began to surface, twisting her perception of the past. She saw her family, their faces blurred by time but still achingly familiar. They had once lived together in a small hovel, scraping by in the harsh world of Outworld. Her father had been beaten to death by Shao Kahn’s minions for refusing to surrender their meager possessions. Her mother had been taken, her fate left unknown. Skarlet’s younger self had been cast into the streets, alone and starving.

A new memory emerged, one she hadn’t known existed. It was her younger self, gaunt and feverish, huddled in a dark corner as an incurable disease ravaged her body. She remembered the unbearable weakness, the feeling of her life slipping away. She had been found by Shao Kahn’s men, not out of mercy but because her corpse would serve a purpose. She was to be incinerated like so many others, her body reduced to ash.

But then, a man in a white coat stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with perverse curiosity. He wasn’t like the others. He saw potential where they saw waste. Instead of incinerating her, he brought her to his laboratory. The man spoke softly, his tone unsettling as he explained that he would "save" her. She realized now that this was the true beginning of her nightmare. He experimented on her relentlessly, infusing her body with the blood code, a powerful and ancient genetic sequence that rewrote her very being. The process was agony, but it kept her alive, reshaping her into something far beyond human.

The memories shifted again, revealing the lab’s cold, sterile walls and the man’s twisted grin as he watched her transformation. She understood now that Shao Kahn hadn’t saved her. He had simply claimed what was left after the experiments. Her loyalty to him had been born out of lies and manipulation, her mind warped to serve his every whim. The family she thought she had lost to fate had been destroyed by his hand. Her suffering, her transformation, all of it had been orchestrated by the man she called her creator.

The Skarlet standing before the blood cocoon faltered. The memories weren’t just fragments anymore; they were truths, undeniable and damning. Her hands trembled, and for the first time in years, tears welled in her crimson eyes. The cocoon pulsed faintly as her real self stirred within, sensing the crack in the armor of the facade that had been built around her.

A voice echoed in her mind. It wasn’t Peter’s, nor was it Shao Kahn’s. It was her own, weak but defiant. 'This isn’t who you are. This isn’t who you were meant to be.'

Skarlet clenched her fists, staring at the cocoon as though seeing her true self for the first time. The new Skarlet, the one shaped by blood magik and pain, began to crumble. Her resolve faltered, the power she had wielded so confidently now feeling hollow. For the first time, she wondered if she could truly break free, if the fragile person trapped within could rise again.

Could she reclaim what was stolen from her? Could she forge a new path? The questions weighed heavy in her heart as the storm of memories subsided, leaving only the quiet, aching truth in their wake.

----

AN: I kept Skarlet's OG origin story while twisting it a bit to show her other side than the usual cruel bloody killer.

[Ironman] Ch: 23 [The Butterfly Effect]

Tony stepped out of the scanner for the second time that day, his expression grim as he watched the readout confirm, once again, that no foreign objects had been found. The burn chamber adjacent to the scanner flared briefly as his clothes were incinerated.

He checked his phone and the data that Natasha sent him related to her qualifications. He simply typed it manually on the console and discarded the phone. Better be careful. There might be a bug in the data that she sent him, which might have escaped Hermes' scans and he won't risk it. With AI anything could happen, even a tiny slip-up is possible if one knows how.

“Hermes, status update on Legion’s learning phase and the facial recognition.”

“Legion is at 73% of the learning phase, sir. Current projections estimate completion within 48 hours, barring interruptions. Facial recognition on individuals from the restaurant is 42% complete.”

Tony rubbed his chin. “Keep me posted. Expand the recognition algorithm to include international databases, just in case.”

“Understood, sir.”

With the night pressing in and his thoughts swirling like a hurricane, Tony made his way to the gym room. The space was state-of-the-art, filled with high-tech exercise equipment and training gear. But tonight, he only needed the basics: a sandbag and his fists.

[Gym Room]

Dressed in simple black athletic gear, Tony wrapped his hands tightly, his movements mechanical, his mind elsewhere. The gym lights cast sharp shadows, their flickering barely noticeable as he squared up in front of the sandbag.

He started slow, throwing light jabs.

Jab. Jab. Breathe.

His thoughts drifted back to Natasha. The look in her eyes, the smile that didn’t quite reach them. The way she effortlessly deflected his questions while steering the conversation toward him. She was good. Too good.

Right hook. Jab. Uppercut.

“Who are you, Natasha Romanoff?” he muttered under his breath.

The sandbag swayed under the increasing force of his punches. Sweat began to bead on his forehead, but he didn’t stop. His mind replayed everything in his head for that day─ the crowded restaurant, her perfectly calculated responses, and how easily she fell into conversation with him. All seemed too easy, too flawless.

Left hook. Jab. Jab.

“Trap or coincidence?” he asked himself, throwing a powerful cross that sent the sandbag swinging wildly.

He stepped back, breathing hard. "Phew! Getting rusty." His eyes were fixed on the sandbag, but his mind was miles away. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being played. “Hermes,” he called out, still panting.

“Yes, sir?”

“Do we have any anomalies in Malibu’s surveillance feeds from the last 24 hours?”

“Negative, sir. No anomalies detected within the specified timeframe.”

Tony shook his head, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat off his face. “Expand the search radius to 50 miles and include offshore activity.”

“Understood.”

He slumped onto a nearby bench, elbows on his knees. The gym was silent, except for the soft hum of the facility's systems. His instincts screamed that something wasn't right, but he had no evidence, only the nagging feeling that Natasha wasn't who she pretended to be. Then came the throbbing headache. It's been a while since the last one, he thought, grimacing.

He took out a pill bottle from his pocket. He always carries them, just in case. Popping a few painkillers, he closed his eyes and waited. After a while, the throbbing lessened to a dull ache.

"Damn!" he mumbled. Heaving himself off the bench, he tossed the towel to the side.

The sandbag hung motionless, waiting for his next blow.

Jab. Cross. Uppercut.

The next few hours were spent working out his frustrations, both mental and physical. Finally, he lay on the floor, covered in sweat and breathing heavily. After that, he stood up and went to take a shower before going to his bedroom, but he couldn't sleep and kept tossing around.

"Sigh!"

Unable to relax, Tony found himself in his workshop. The holographic interface sprang to life as he activated the main console. He called up the Legion program’s progress, watching the streams of data scroll across the screen.

He tapped the table absentmindedly, his thoughts returning to Natasha. Her comment about jobs had stuck with him.

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," he said aloud, his gaze drifting over to a set of monitors. They showed a rotating view of the property and its surroundings. Everything looked peaceful, quiet.

Tony's brow furrowed. "I need eyes everywhere. Let's see..."

He accessed the Shield's database through the back door he created way back and he kept updating it to make sure no one found it and playing with him using a fake database. Now, over the next hour, he went through the new data, looking for anything unusual or out of place.

Finally, after two hours of searching, he found what he was looking for. The new Director of SHIELD, Nicholas Fury. There wasn't much info on him, but Tony doesn't need info on him because he already knows Fury from the comics and movies. But what caught his eye was a simple mention of the Red Room. The rest of the details didn't make much sense and seemed to be a code of some sort. And there was no mention of Natasha's name.

"It's either Fury kept her off-grid or Red Room. I hope it's not Red Room because it'll be a pain in the ass," he mumbled to himself, tapping his fingers on the workbench. "Well, time to create a job opportunity for her somewhere in Malibu." He chuckled, shaking his head. According to the info, Natasha has a degree in business management and marketing.

Tony decided to play his rich boy card this time. He called the owner of that restaurant where he and Natasha met in the middle of the night and offered the guy an amount he couldn't refuse. He had a suspicion that the owner was also a spy, call it paranoia.

Well, he bought that place.

But here's the fun twist... What if the former owner and workers turn out to be spies? Now, with Tony as the legal owner, what if he decides to keep them around, having them run the restaurant alongside Natasha? Together, they handle the cooking and management, while Tony sits back, enjoying some side income from the operation.

"I'll play with you Natasha," He said, grinning.

"Sir?" Hermes' voice rang out, breaking him out of his musings.

"What is it, Hermes?"

"You really need to get some sleep, sir."

"Yeah," He yawned. "I'll do just that. You know where to find me, Hermes. Let me know if something pops up."

"Understood, sir."

He turned the lights off, making his way to his bedroom.

***

[Meanwhile...]

Victor Von Doom stood in the center of his decrepit lab, sweat dripping from his brow as he stared at the sparking remnants of his failed dimensional gate. His hands, once steady with the confidence of genius, now trembled with frustration. The machine, a culmination of two years of work, lay in pieces before him. Its mechanisms fried, the portal generator sputtering lifelessly.

"Another failure," he growled, his voice echoing through the stone chamber. "So much time and resources wasted. Reed always found a way to win, even from the grave." He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white, a sharp pain grounding him in his spiraling rage.

The castle had been his only refuge after his world came crashing down. Accused of murdering Reed Richards, the man who was once his begrudging rival, Victor had been forced to flee. Disowned by his father, hunted by the authorities, and abandoned by the world he had sought to conquer, he had retreated to this ancient fortress hidden deep in the Latverian mountains. His grandfather, long dead, had left it to him in secret. It was a final gift from a man who understood the burdens of ambition.

Victor paced the room, his boots crunching on shards of glass and scattered wires. The lab, though hidden beneath the castle, was equipped with stolen technology from his father's company. Hacking into their systems, which he knew like the back of his hand, and stealing resources had been child's play for a mind like his, but even with those resources, the dimensional gate remained beyond his grasp.

"ARGGG!!!"

In a rage, he swept his arm across the workbench, causing tools and components to crash to the floor. His eye caught a tall mirror across the room. He froze. A sneering, mocking representation of himself met him from the mirror: he was a failure, an outcast, a desperate man.

With a loud yell, he picked up a wrench and threw it at the mirror. The glass broke into sharp pieces, falling all over the stone floor. When the noise quieted down, Victor saw something strange. "What the...?!" A soft glow of light came from behind the broken mirror.

For a moment, his curiosity calmed his anger. He walked up to the mirror's frame and touched its edges with his hands. There was a green crystal on the wall. "Tsk." The sharp edge of the mirror cut his finger and as he jerked his hand back, a drop of blood fell on the crystal. Suddenly, the light became brighter, and there was a soft hiss. A hidden mechanism clicked, and the wall disappeared in the thin air.

"What the fuck is this?!"

Behind the wall was an old stairway lit by more green crystal. He looked down, but couldn't see the end.

"What did you hid in here, grandpa," He mumbled before going down without a care because he had failed over and over again and had nothing to lose at this point.

....

[Outside]

Mandarin and his Ten Rings tracked down Victor.

[Batman x Ironman] Ch: 69 [Life force of Dr. Strange]

Mandarin's eyes widened as the dust and fire settled because Selina wasn't there. At first, he thought her body had turned to ashes, but then a blast of plasma beam came from behind him, burning his back and sending him flying into the jungle.

Selina's voice sounded in his head, "You are going to need something more than that to kill me."

"HOW?!" He roared as his body healed and he stood up. "How are you still alive? I'm sure my hellfire touched you. There's no way you should be alive!"

"Yeah, it was dangerous," Selina said, her eyes narrowing as she studied the crater where she had stood moments earlier. The residual energy signature from Mandarin's attack was intense—off the charts, even for someone like her. "But you’re a bit too slow."

Without giving him a chance to react, she raised her arm, activating her suit's arm-mounted launcher. A flurry of mini-missiles burst from her gauntlet, streaking toward Mandarin with fiery trails. The missiles curved mid-flight, locking onto his heat signature and slamming into him one after another in a series of deafening explosions.

Mandarin staggered back, the hellfire around him flaring to absorb the damage. He roared, his voice echoing through the jungle. "You think toys will stop me?"

Selina smirked, her Kryptonian-enhanced senses locking onto his every move. "Toys? Sweetheart, these are party favors." She vanished in a blur of speed, appearing behind him in an instant. Her fists connected with his back, sending him hurtling into a massive tree that splintered on impact.

Mandarin twisted mid-air, flames licking at his wounds as they healed almost instantly. "You’re fast," he growled, summoning a torrent of hellfire in both hands. "But I have the power of the damned at my side!"

He hurled the hellfire toward her, a wave of searing, supernatural flames that scorched everything in its path. Selina’s eyes glowed red as she unleashed her heat vision, the twin beams meeting the hellfire head-on. The collision created a blinding explosion of light and heat, the shockwave leveling the surrounding area.

'It's getting dangerous. I hope this armor survives till Bruce arrives. This freak is healing from everything.'

Selina flew through the chaos at the ground level and her movements a blur as she closed the distance between them. She launched into the air, her fists glowing with kinetic energy from her suit. She slammed into Mandarin with the force of a speeding train, driving him into the ground with enough impact to create a crater.

"Still think you’re winning?" she quipped, hovering above him as he struggled to rise.

[Ziing! Zing!] She blasted him with her heat vision over and over again for two minutes. But Mandarin’s body was already healing rapidly.

"You can’t kill me!" he roared, flames surging around him as he launched himself toward her. His fists glowed with hellfire as he swung, but Selina moved like a phantom, dodging each blow with ease. She countered with a burst of ice breath, freezing his arm mid-swing. With a quick follow-up strike, she shattered the frozen limb, sending shards of flesh and bone scattering.

Mandarin howled in rage, the hellfire within him reigniting to restore his arm. "You’re just prolonging the inevitable!"

Selina zipped around him, her speed making it impossible for him to track her movements. She fired a concentrated blast of heat vision at his torso, burning through his fiery defenses and searing his flesh. Mandarin stumbled, his body struggling to recover from the relentless assault.

"You talk too much," Selina said, appearing behind him once again. She grabbed his neck and lifted him off the ground. With her super strength strength, she hurled him into the air, following close behind. As he tried to stabilize himself mid-flight, she delivered a hard kick to his chest, sending him hurtling back toward the ground like a meteor.

Booom!

The impact created a massive shockwave, uprooting trees and scattering debris. Selina hovered above the crater, her eyes glowing as she prepared to finish the fight. Mandarin, battered but still alive, clawed his way out of the rubble, his hellfire flickering weakly.

"You’re like a cockroach, you know that?" Selina said, landing gracefully on the edge of the crater. She checked her HUD and noticed that the nanites were reaching their limits. The damage from the hellfire was too much. Her suit was functioning at 60% right now. "But this ends now."

Mandarin growled, summoning the last remnants of his strength. "You think you’ve won? My master will—"

Before he could finish, Selina moved faster than the eye could follow.

She zipped forward, her movements so fast that the world around her seemed frozen. To her, Mandarin was a statue—a fiery one—but a statue nonetheless. Her punches landed like lightning strikes, each blow shattering bone and tearing through muscle before his body could even start to heal.

Her fists moved in a blur, hitting his ribs, chest, and head repeatedly. The sound of cracking bones echoed through the clearing, almost drowned out by the hum of her failing suit. Mandarin’s hellfire scorched the nanites with every strike, reducing her suit’s functionality bit by bit.

“Let’s see how fast you really heal,” she muttered, her voice sharp with determination.

Kicks and jabs followed her punches, her hits calculated to inflict maximum damage. She spun mid-air, delivering a devastating roundhouse kick that snapped his spine, only to slam her fist into his chest right after. The hellfire clinging to him flared, trying to push her back, but she powered through, gritting her teeth as her HUD flashed warnings.

Suit integrity: 50%.

“Better hold on, suit,” she whispered, throwing another punch that cracked Mandarin’s jaw.

And then, it happened.

Mandarin’s body couldn’t keep up with the relentless assault. One final blow to his chest caused his entire form to implode, the force sending a fiery shockwave across the area. Selina shielded herself, her nanites forming a protective shell, though they were sizzling against the heat.

When the firestorm cleared, Mandarin’s remains were already starting to reform—muscles twisting, skin knitting together. But then, Selina noticed something glowing faintly amidst the chaos.

A crystal.

It pulsed with a sinister red light, embedded deep within his partially reformed chest.

“Found your little secret,” she said, narrowing her eyes. Without hesitation, she dove toward him, her hand shooting forward. Her fingers wrapped around the crystal, the heat from it burning into her palm even through her enhanced durability.

Mandarin’s eyes snapped open, wide with panic. “NO! Don’t—”

Too late.

Selina yanked the crystal free, and the moment she did, Mandarin’s body froze mid-heal. The hellfire around him sputtered out, leaving only silence. His face twisted in shock before his form crumbled into ash, disintegrating into the jungle floor. She stared at the crystal in her hand. It was warm, pulsating with energy—dark, dangerous energy.

“This must be how you kept coming back,” she muttered, as she used the nanites containment box to hold the cube. Her HUD flashed more warnings about her suit’s dwindling power, but she ignored them.

“Bruce,” she said into her comms, her voice steady but exhausted. But the sun was still up, so her body automatically absorbed the energy regaining her strength and stamina. “Mandarin’s officially toast, but you’re not gonna believe what I found. Looks like someone’s been handing out cheat codes. Take a look." She held it before her HUD.

"A crystal?" Bruce said.

He and Morgan flew down at the location and Bruce looked at the crystal. He recognized the energy signature of the crystal. It was similar to the energy signature of those Samjokgu that he killed back then while saving Ami. But although the energy was similar, this crystal was far dense and dangerous.

Selina took out the ring and gave it to Bruce, "Here you go."

He nodded and put it on his finger. 'This girl is still sleeping, huh.' He looked at the crystal and narrowed his eyes, "Mephesto is definitely the one behind this. But who else is backing him? He can't directly interfere with our world, so he must be using someone else to mess things up. The question is, who?"

Morgan frowned as she felt something familiar. She walked over to the scorched ground and touched a heap of rocks and soil. It was the place where the altar was. Her Infinity energy began to react. She closed her eyes and focused, trying to track the energy signature. "Hey, Dad." She stood up and turned toward Bruce. "Why am I sensing Doctor Strange's life force from these rocks?"

[Ironman] Ch: 22 [Natasha and Tony]

Tony sat back in his chair, a casual smile plastered on his face, though his mind was working overtime. Natasha Romanoff. The name sent alarm bells ringing in the back of his head. In the comics from his past-life memories, Natasha was a complex character—a deadly operative who often worked for either S.H.I.E.L.D. or the Red Room, and someone whose motives were rarely clear.

Was her presence here really just a coincidence? Or had he been marked by someone already watching his every move? If she was a spy, there was no telling how deep this went. And this entire place reeks of a setup. Someone might be keeping an eye on him and as soon as he got out of his lab, they put their little plan into action. Starting with the restaurant which is completely packed up with just a single seat open before her and then her emotional story.

'This isn't a coincidence. This is a trap. All these people around me could be spies. Gotta act normal.'

He considered leaving right away, but it will alert them and it's dangerous.

But Tony didn’t let his growing paranoia show.

“Well, Natasha Romanoff, seems like the universe decided we needed to meet. So, why don't we make the best of it? Let's put all the worries behind us for a moment and enjoy a good lunch. And not to worry, it's on me and I won't take a no," He said with his usual charming smile. He motioned to the waiter. “Her meal’s on me. Get her whatever she wants, plus dessert.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a faint smile. “You don’t have to do that.”

Tony waved her off. “Please. It’s a small gesture. Besides, I owe you for the entertainment value of imagining you taking down your boss.”

She chuckled softly, and he saw some of the tension ease from her posture.

The waiter arrived, pen and paper in hand. Tony ordered a jumbo cheeseburger and a side of onion rings, then glanced at Natasha.

"I'll have the same. Thank you."

The waiter was about to leave.

"Wow! Wait a sec," He stopped the waiter and turned to Natasha. "You don't want dessert? Come on, you can't have a good meal without something sweet."

"I don't think I can finish all this," she said, a playful glint in her eyes.

"Nonsense. I'll eat whatever you can't finish."

"Well, alright. In that case, bring me the apple pie."

"Coming right up," the waiter said, heading back into the kitchen.

The two made small talk as they waited for the food, with Tony steering the conversation away from the heavy topics and focusing on lighthearted banter. He was careful to avoid divulging any details about his past or his current work.

When the food arrived, Natasha dug in with gusto. Tony was surprised to see her put away the massive burger with ease. He signed the waiter to bring another one. Natasha didn't argue and smiled at him. The waiter brought another burger and she took another big bite without holding back. She noticed how he was looking at her with an expression that screamed─ 'Is this girl for real?'

"What? You think a girl can't eat?" She said, smirking.

Tony shook his head. "No, I'm just impressed. I didn't expect you to pack it away like a champ."

"I don't get out much, and my diet consists of cheap takeout," she said between bites. "So, this is a real treat. Besides, gotta fill myself up because tonight I might go to bed empty stomach." She took another bite and tried to speak. "Thanks for the food."

"My pleasure. As for dinner, how about we meet here tonight? Only if you want to," He pointed it out not to sound like a creep.

She smiled, her gaze turning coy. "I'd love that. But, what's the catch? People don't usually do nice things for strangers without wanting something in return."

"You're not a stranger anymore. We've spent the last thirty minutes talking about life and eating together. That makes us friends, and friends look out for each other. Right?" Tony asked, taking a bite of his burger.

"Friends. Yeah. I like the sound of that," Natasha nodded.

"So?" He arched an eyebrow.

"Alright, fine," she laughed, shaking her head. "I'll meet you here tonight. But don't be surprised if I clean out your wallet."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Tony replied with a smile.

The two finished their meals, then came the dessert. The apple pie was warm and fresh, the perfect ending to a surprisingly enjoyable lunch.

Afterward, Tony and Natasha parted ways, with plans to meet up later that evening.

After getting out of the restaurant, he decided to take a walk around the beach. He casually walked with his hands in his pocket. The sound of waves hitting the shore and the distant calls of seagulls should have been relaxing, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching him. He looked around at the people nearby—joggers, sunbathers, and surfers—but nothing seemed unusual.

He found a quiet spot near some rocks and sat down on a flat, sun-warmed stone, leaning back against it. The ocean breeze ruffled his hair. For a moment, he let himself unwind, taking deep breaths and releasing the stress that had been building up for weeks. He stretched out on the rock and let out a big yawn.

'Well, time to take a little rest and calm my mind. Can't let the paranoia get the best of me.'

He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing.

After resting for one hour, he stretched his legs lazily then sat up, and dusted his clothes. The brief rest had done wonders to clear his mind, but the nagging feeling of unease remained.

Tony returned to his facility. But instead of going into the main building, he went to the small building on the right side of the building. The sterile, minimalist room was lined with high-tech equipment, its centerpiece a cylindrical full-body scanner. He took off his clothes, placed them in a box-shaped scanner, and then stepped onto the main scanner platform.

“Hermes, initiate a full-body scan. I want a detailed report on any anomalies, including external trackers or embedded devices. Also, run a sweep of my clothes.”

“Understood, sir. Beginning scan sequence,” Hermes replied. The scanner whirred to life, its blue light sweeping over Tony’s body in precise, methodical passes. A separate arm reached for his clothes, scanning each article with equal precision.

Tony stood still, arms crossed, as the process unfolded. “Give me the good news, Hermes. Or the bad. I can handle either.”

The AI’s calm voice came through the overhead speakers. “Scan complete. Results are as follows: No foreign objects or trackers detected on your person. Your clothing also tests negative for any embedded surveillance devices. You are clean, sir.”

Tony exhaled, a mix of relief and frustration. “That’s good, but it means they’re either really clever or I’m just being paranoid. Let’s keep security on high alert, just in case.”

“Red Level security remains active. Shall I enhance monitoring protocols in the surrounding area?”

“Yeah, extend the perimeter sweeps and run facial recognition on any newcomers in Malibu over the past week. And run a facial recognition on all the people in that restaurant. Let’s see if there’s a pattern.”

“Understood. I will begin immediately.”

Tony stepped out of the scanner, grabbing a fresh set of clothes from a nearby locker. As he dressed, his mind returned to Natasha. Whether she was friend or foe, one thing was certain: she was far from ordinary. And if there was one thing Tony Stark couldn’t resist, it was a good mystery.

[Night] [9 pm]

Tony arrived at the restaurant just before 9 PM, walking as he always did—hands in his pockets, wearing a plain black T-shirt and jeans. Nothing about him stood out, which was just the way he wanted it.

Inside, the place had a relaxed vibe, the crowd thinner than earlier in the day. He spotted Natasha right away. She was seated at their table from lunch, wearing a simple blue shirt and black pants. She looked casual.

He walked over with a small smile. "Hey. Glad to see you made it."

Natasha smiled back. "I almost thought you wouldn’t show."

Tony chuckled as he sat down. "Me? Never. Let’s just say I don’t pass up good food or good company."

They opened the menu and continued to chat...

"So, what's your story?" she asked, leaning in slightly, her tone curious. "What exactly do you do? You’re one of the Starks, right?"

"Just a regular guy, really," he said with a shrug. "I like to tinker around with stuff. Build things." He kept it vague, not wanting to give away too much, but also not wanting to seem evasive.

Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly, but she smiled, clearly not fully buying the simplicity of his answer. "Tinker, huh? Sounds like you might be hiding something."

Tony chuckled. "Maybe. But it’s nothing too exciting. Just some hobbies, that’s all."

Their waiter approached with a notepad, ready to take their order. He glanced at her with a raised brow, signaling her to go first.

"Alright," Natasha said, tapping her chin for a moment. "I’ll have the kebab platter and noodle bowl. A diet coke."

Tony nodded. "Good choice." He turned to the waiter. "I’ll have the barbeque chicken wings, chicken parm, and cream soda."

The waiter scribbled on his notepad, then nodded. "I'll have your orders up shortly."

"So, what about you, Natasha?" Tony asked, leaning back in his chair as he rested his hands behind his head. "What do you do when you're not, uh, looking for a new job or enjoying a burger with random guys at lunch?"

She smirked, clearly enjoying the playful tone in his voice. "I do a lot of things. Work mostly, you know? But when I have time off... I like to read. And watch movies. Any recommendations?"

Tony smiled. "Well, I've recently discovered that sci-fi isn't so bad. You should check out Star Wars. It's a classic."

"I thought you were going to say Godfather," she said, chuckling softly.

He shrugged. "Godfather is great, but I'm not into gangster stories. What about you? What’s your favorite?"

"Well, I do like to watch horror movies," she said with an innocent smile.

His eyes widened, raising an eyebrow. "Really? Like, slasher films? Stuff like that?"

"Yeah." She sounded amused by his reaction. "I love old classic movies. Candyman, Psycho, etc. And yeah, Jason, Freddy, Michael Myers, all that stuff. Love it."

The conversation shifted to books as their food arrived. Natasha seemed particularly interested in Tony’s choice of reading material.

"You read much?" she asked, taking a bite of kebab. "Or are you more into just movies?"

"Both, actually. I’m into anything with a bit of mystery. You know, like Sherlock Holmes—the original stuff. But I also like modern thrillers. You ever read any of the Jack Reacher books? Those are fun."

"Definitely," She said with a nod. "I’ve read a few. Reacher’s a bit of a brute, but the stories are always a good time."

They both dug into their food, the conversation flowing easily between bites. Tony found himself laughing more than he expected, enjoying the way their banter was so easy. He never expected someone like Natasha to feel so... normal. But deep inside, he knew it was all fake. The real question was who was the spider and who was the fly?

Their conversation carried on, flowing easily between topics as they finished their meals.

"Well," Natasha said, looking at him with a raised brow. "This was fun. Thanks for the dinner. It’s not every day I get treated to a meal like this."

Tony smiled, leaning in slightly. "I’m glad you enjoyed it. And hey, we could always do this again sometime."

"Well, you know, as much as I'd like to take up on that offer, I still have to figure out my job situation. But, thanks," she said softly.

"Sigh! A job, huh? Tell you what, meet me here tomorrow at noon around 2. Maybe, I could help you out in finding a good job. And no catch. I promise. We're friends, right?"

She considered his offer. "Okay. But don't go and pull some rich guy stunt. It will piss me off."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Tony replied.

Natasha rose from her seat, giving Tony one final smile. "Tomorrow then."

He watched her leave, the growing feeling in his chest unsettling.

'That smile...'

The look on her face didn't match what he was seeing. What really lay behind her fake facade?

[Spiderman] Ch: 7 [Skarlet vs Peter]

[The Bronx – Morning, 10:07 AM]

Skarlet turned toward the voice, her crimson eyes narrowing as a gang of men stepped into the alley. They were ordinary humans—street thugs armed with baseball bats, knives, and brass knuckles. Their leader, a scruffy man with a sneer plastered across his face, waved a crowbar menacingly.

"Freak, you say?" She smirked.

"You reek of blood, too much blood. So... What’s a freaky thing like you doing in our alley?” he sneered. “Lost, are we?”

Skarlet smirked, her lips curling into a predatory grin. “Lost?” she asked, her voice silky and amused. “Hardly. But perhaps you can help me... I want to kill some pathetic worms.”

The leader chuckled, taking a step closer. “Oh, you are comparing us to worms, alright. Let's see if you can say that after we bang you up.”

Skarlet’s grin widened. “Perfect.”

Before they could react, she flicked her wrist. Blood tendrils shot from her palm, skewering two of the men instantly. Their bodies jerked and spasmed as their blood was siphoned, flowing into Skarlet like crimson rivers. She let out a low, satisfied moan as her pale skin flushed with life.

"Humm~ Not too tasty, but this will do..."

The remaining men screamed, dropping their weapons and running. Skarlet snapped her fingers and their blood oozed out of their faces, pooling into the air. They couldn't even scream as their eyes popped out and they fell to the ground. The blood in the air quickly formed into two large blades—blades that she promptly used to chop them up to pieces before absorbing the blood.

Then she turned her attention to the leader, who stood frozen in fear.

“Still feeling brave?” She asked, taking a slow step forward.

The man stumbled back, stammering incoherently. Skarlet sighed. “Pathetic.” With a casual wave of her hand, she crushed him against the alley wall with a surge of blood magic. His body slumped, lifeless, leaving a smear of red behind.

Suddenly, her senses flared. Her survival instinct screamed at her to run away. But she didn't have time to react. She turned around, just in time to see a flash of gold and red energy shooting from the sky. Peter Parker appeared, his t-shirt and jeans replaced by a black suit covered with faint golden patterns that shimmered with celestial energy. His eyes glowed blue as he hovered above the alley.

“You’ve been busy,” Peter said with a cold tone as he looked at the mess behind the girl. “But your bloody party’s over.”

Skarlet’s eyes narrowed. She almost forgot to breathe. His presence radiated power—more than she’d ever encountered. Even her father, Shao Kahn's energy pails in comparison to this energy. At that moment, she knew that there was no escaping that monster before her. So, she might as well fight till the end.

She licked her lips. “Peter Parker.”

“In the flesh,” He replied as he landed on the ground. “And you’re about to tell me who you are and what you’re doing here.”

Skarlet chuckled, taking a step closer. “I’ve heard of you, Peter Parker. The so-called ‘strongest warrior of this realm.’ I wonder...” Her voice dropped to a sultry whisper. “...if your blood tastes as powerful as you look.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, that’s not creepy at all. Listen, lady, you’ve got about ten seconds to explain yourself before this gets messy.”

Skarlet’s grin turned feral. “Oh, I hope it does.”

She lunged, summoning a spear of blood and hurling it at Peter with blinding speed. Peter’s reflexes kicked in, his hand snapping up to catch the spear in mid-air. The blood weapon hissed and evaporated as it touched his celestial energy.

“Bad move,” Peter said with a smirk. He extended his hand, and a golden pulse erupted, surrounding them. The alley shimmered and vanished, replaced by an empty, endless void bathed in a soft, amber light. The ground beneath their feet felt solid but surreal, as though it were made of pure energy.

“What is this?” Skarlet demanded, her voice sharp as she glanced around.

“An isolated dimension,” Peter replied, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space. “No interruptions, no collateral damage. Just you and me.”

Skarlet’s lips curled into a wicked grin. “Perfect.”

She thrust her hands forward, unleashing a barrage of blood daggers that streaked toward Peter. He dodged effortlessly, weaving through the projectiles with supernatural speed.

"It's been a while since I fought someone of your level. Show me more!" He yelled with a large grin.

Skarlet snarled, summoning a wave of blood to crash over him like a tidal wave. Peter raised a hand, and the blood froze mid-air, suspended in glimmering red droplets.

“Impressive,” he said, flicking his wrist to send the blood scattering harmlessly. “But you’re going to have to try harder.”

Skarlet growled, her crimson eyes blazing. She summoned a whip of blood, lashing it toward him. Peter sidestepped, then countered with a burst of golden energy needles from his fingertips that sent her skidding back.

“Still holding back?” she taunted, wiping a trickle of blood from her lip. “Afraid I might hurt you?”

Peter’s eyes narrowed. “You want me to take this seriously? Fine.”

In an instant, he was in front of her, his fist glowing with celestial energy as he struck her in the stomach. The impact sent her flying, skidding across the ground. She groaned, clutching her midsection as she staggered to her feet. 'Impossible! I couldn't transform into my blood form?! What the hell is that power?' She wondered.

“You’re strong,” she admitted, her voice tinged with both pain and excitement. “But so am I.”

She raised her arms, and the blood within her body surged outward, forming a swirling, crimson vortex around her. The air grew thick with the metallic scent of blood as she unleashed her full power. The vortex condensed into a massive blood golem that towered over Peter, its eyes glowing with red energy.

“Let’s see how you handle this!” Skarlet shouted, directing the golem to attack.

"Oohh! That's a nice trick," Peter didn’t flinch. He raised his hands, summoning a barrier of golden light that absorbed the golem’s strikes. The two forces clashed, sending shockwaves rippling through the dimension. "But it's not enough." With a burst of power, he shattered the golem into a rain of blood.

Skarlet lunged through the crimson storm, her hands glowing with dark magic as she aimed for Peter’s chest. He caught her wrists effortlessly.

“Enough,” he said, his voice firm. “You’re done.”

Skarlet struggled, her eyes glowing with rage. “Not yet!”

She tried to manipulate his blood, but his celestial energy made him immune. Her control slipped.

"Uumm... That won't work on me," Peter said smugly, letting out a chuckle. He leaned closer, whispering in her ear. "And lady, you are way out of your league. Now, if you think I won't torture you just because you are a woman, you're mistaken. I believe in gender equality. You see, I don't want anyone to say that I'm being unfair to them... Even in torture."

He tightened his grip on her wrists.

"Now, who the hell are you? Why did you come here? Who sent you? Who are you working for?!" he demanded.

Skarlet gritted her teeth as Peter’s celestial energy coursed through her, immobilizing her movements. The golden glow emanating from his body felt like sunlight on a vampire, overwhelming her senses and sapping her strength. But she refused to yield. Her loyalty to her father, Shao Kahn, was absolute.

She met Peter’s glowing blue eyes with defiance, her crimson irises shining with blood magic. “You can break my body, warrior,” she spat, “but my loyalty is unbreakable. I will not betray my father.”

Peter’s grip tightened slightly, his expression hardening. “Your father? So this is more than just a random rampage. Who is he, and why send you here? Don’t make me drag it out of you.”

'Damn it! I can't even control my own blood anymore... But...' Skarlet let out a bitter laugh, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. “You think you can scare me? Torture me? I was forged in agony, tempered in suffering. Your light cannot extinguish me.”

Peter’s brow furrowed. “Forged in agony? You’ve been twisted into something cruel. But I can’t let you go unchecked. If you won’t talk willingly—”

He was interrupted as the ground beneath them quaked. Skarlet’s blood, scattered across the void, began to coalesce, forming shadowy tendrils that snaked toward her. Her lips curled into a triumphant grin.

“You underestimate the power of blood magic,” she hissed. The tendrils surged toward her wrists, breaking Peter’s grip with a force that sent him skidding back.

'What the hell? Her power isn't following the law of this reality! Something weird's going on here. I need answers. I guess, I'll just have to enter her mind.' He flipped over and landed with ease. “Oh, I get it now,” he said, his tone calm but laced with disappointment. “You’re not just loyal to your father—you’re his puppet.”

Skarlet’s eyes narrowed. “Puppet? I am his chosen! His greatest creation! Shao Kahn gave me purpose, power, and life. I exist to serve his will!”

'Fucking hell! Mortal Kombat! This realm is fucked. God! I hope this isn't one of those time-hopping messy shitty stories from the game. Sigh!' Peter shook his head. “And that’s the tragedy, isn’t it? You’re so blinded by his control, you can’t see what you’ve become.”

-------

AN: If you are reading this, please give a like lol. It's hard to continue writing without knowing if anyone is reading or not. So far, only 1 person is giving like.🫡👍

[Spiderman] Ch: 6 [Blood]

The next day, Natasha Romanoff in her black tactical suit, and Clint Barton, his quiver loaded with arrows slung over his shoulder arrived at the scene. The cops couldn't handle the situation and called the nearest Shield outpost for help.

The local police had sealed off the area, but the officers seemed relieved when the agents arrived. One of them, a young detective with a pale face and trembling hands, gestured toward the bar. "You’ll want to see this. It’s... bad."

Natasha raised an eyebrow but said nothing, stepping inside with Clint close behind. The sight that greeted them was worse than either expected.

The bar was a scene of utter carnage. Blood coated every surface, dripping from walls and pooling on the floor. Body parts were scattered across the room as if someone had detonated a bomb filled with human remains. The smell of iron was suffocating. Near the counter lay a dried-up corpse, its skin shriveled and stretched over brittle bones. Its face was frozen in a mask of terror, with hollowed-out sockets where eyes once were.

“Ugh,” Clint muttered, covering his nose. “This place smells worse than a butcher shop in a heatwave.”

Natasha ignored his comment, crouching near the dried corpse after she took a quick look around. “This isn’t just a simple attack,” she said with a grim expression. She had seen two similar scenes previously, one in Kingpin's base and the other in Oscorps' hideout, but this was even worse than those two. “The blood’s still fresh—still liquid—even though hours have passed. And it’s... boiling." She looked at the little bubbling pool of blood on her right. "That’s not natural.”

 Clint nodded, pointing to a blood-splattered wall. “I’ve seen some messed-up things, but this is new. You think it’s vampires?”

Natasha stood up, shaking her head. “No. If it were vampires, they’d have drained the bodies completely, not wasted this much blood. This is something else.”

He tapped an arrow against his chin, thinking. “Some kind of blood magic, maybe? I mean, I’m no wizard, but this feels... ritualistic.”

She didn’t answer immediately, her eyes narrowing as she examined the scene. "Look at this." She spotted scorch marks on the floor near the corpse and bent down, brushing her fingers over the charred surface. “These markings... could be from some kind of portal. Someone came in and left quickly.”

Clint frowned. “So, we’re dealing with someone who’s not just a killer—they’ve got powers. Great.”

Natasha turned to the detective, who had cautiously stepped into the doorway. “Who called this in?”

The detective swallowed hard. “A couple of neighbor kids found it. They were messing around when they saw the... mess. Ran straight to the station.”

“Any witnesses? Cameras?” Clint asked, gesturing around the room.

“Nothing,” the detective replied. “This area’s a dead zone. No cameras, no foot traffic. Whoever did this picked the perfect place to go unnoticed.”

Natasha crossed her arms, her expression hard. “This wasn’t random. Whoever was here had a reason for killing so many people. A grudge, maybe. Or probably just for fun. Sigh! Keep the cops on alert. If we got a maniac on the loose, they might kill again."

The detective nodded. "Yes, ma'am. We'll stay vigilant." He looked around nervously.

Natasha’s gaze swept over the blood-soaked room one last time. “We need to report this to Director Fury. Get a team to analyze that blood. Whatever’s boiling it might tell us something.”

"What should we do about... the bodies?" The detective gestured towards the corpse.

"Keep the area sealed. No one goes in or out till the agents arrive." She instructed, her voice firm.

"Yes, ma'am." The detective nodded.

Natasha walked out, followed by Clint, and they headed toward their parked car. Once inside, Clint looked at her. "So, what now?"

She sighed, leaning back in her seat. "Fury will probably send us after the culprit. We don't know enough about them, but I can already tell this won't be easy."

"Should we ask Emma's team to join in? Don't get me wrong. We are dealing with freaks with power here, and Emma's team has dealt with their fair share of freaks. So, it wouldn't hurt to have extra hands on deck." Clint suggested.

Natasha didn't answer immediately, her eyes lost in thought. Finally, she nodded. "It might not be a bad idea. They are good at their job. So, it might not be a bad idea."

...

[Meanwhile in NY]

Peter Parker, dressed casually in a t-shirt and jeans, sat across from Sue Storm at a small table in the bustling food court of the local mall. The two of them had finally managed to find some time away from their responsibilities—something that had become rare in the whirlwind of family life and superhero duties. Sue was happily sipping her iced coffee, and Peter, with a grin on his face, was trying to enjoy a much-needed break. It had been a month since his last date with Wanda and Rogue, and now it was Sue's turn. Though it was a simple outing, Peter had missed moments like these.

The sounds of children laughing and the hum of people chatting around them created a peaceful atmosphere, a stark contrast to the chaos Peter was usually wrapped up in. With that many superpowered kids, yeah, it's chaos. Right now, he was focused on his wife. Sue caught his gaze, her blue eyes softening.

"You've been a great dad," she said with a smile, her voice affectionate. "It’s good to see you take a breather every once in a while. Don’t get too used to it, though. The kids will need their superhero dad soon enough."

Peter chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, I don’t think I could go too long without saving the day. But I’ll admit, these little breaks do feel nice.”

Suddenly, his smile faltered, and his spider senses spiked. A tingling sensation crawled up his spine, alerting him to danger nearby. His gaze snapped around the food court, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the crowd. There was something off in the air, something he couldn’t quite place yet, but the feeling was unmistakable.

Sue noticed his shift in the mood instantly. “What is it?”

Peter’s fingers tightened around the edge of the table as he focused on the source of his unease. “There’s something wrong,” he muttered, standing up abruptly. “I don’t know what, but I can feel it.” He used his Celestial power to check, but the feeling disappeared. All he got was a streak of red energy and a strong scent of blood. "It's gone! It just vanished!"

"What was it?" Sue asked, her tone tense.

Peter shook his head, looking around the crowded food court. "I don't know. Just a red energy signature. Whatever it was... it was gone in an instant."

"Go," She said with a smile, understanding the situation.

"You sure? I can check it out later," He said.

"Yeah. I'll be fine. Take care of it and then we can continue our date."

Peter stood up with a nod. He teleported outside into the sky and used his power to track down that energy signature.

...

[Location: Somewhere in the Bronx]

In a deserted alley, Skarlet appeared with a spark of red energy. 'That was close. To think he could detect me from that far despite the artifact hiding my power.' she thought, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

She was wearing a tight-fitting dark red dress, black leather boots, and a black jacket. A ruby pendant hung from her neck, and her red hair was tied back in a ponytail. Her face was pale, her eyes cold, and her expression stoic.

"So much power..." She looked at her trembling hands. "I wonder what his blood tastes like?" she wondered out loud.

The thought of drinking Peter's blood sent a thrill through her. She couldn't stop drooling at the thought. 'It must taste as delicious as he looks.'

She licked her lips and grinned. She couldn't wait to savor his taste.

"What kind of freak are you, lady?" A sudden male voice came from behind.

[Batman x Ironman] Ch: 68 [Mandarin vs Selina: The Hellfire]

The jet-black skies gave way to blazing hues of orange and crimson as Bruce and Morgan neared their next destination—a volcanic region nestled deep within the Pacific Ring of Fire. Smoke billowed into the air, blanketing the landscape in ash. Rivers of molten lava carved fiery paths through the scorched earth, consuming everything in their wake. The eruption wasn’t just natural; its intensity screamed something unnatural, something controlled.

"Let me guess," Morgan said, her voice filtered through her suit's comms, "Another Ring is making this volcano go nuclear?"

Bruce nodded, his gaze sharp. "The Liar Ring confirmed it. The Flame Blast Ring controls fire and heat, amplifying volcanic activity to catastrophic levels. Whoever has it is either trying to unleash hell or has no idea what they're playing with."

"Or both," Morgan muttered, scanning the area. Her HUD highlighted clusters of displaced civilians and emergency responders attempting to contain the devastation. "Looks like the locals are trying to evacuate. I'll help them. You go for the ring this time." She flew down. On her HUD, she saw there were too many civilians to rescue within the limited time. Her sensors are going wild, warning her of the upcoming earthquake and blasts.

"You with the Avengers? Lend us a hand," One of the emergency responders shouted when they saw Morgan hovering.

Morgan landed on a jagged outcrop of volcanic rock, the heat from the molten lava below making the air ripple. Her suit's nanites retracted from her right arm, revealing a glowing lattice of golden Infinity energy coursing through her veins. She raised her hand, her fingers trembling slightly from the sheer force of the power she was about to wield.

"Hold on tight, everyone!" Morgan called out, her voice steady despite the chaos. She closed her eyes and focused, channeling the raw, celestial energy.

The Infinity energy surged outward in a radiant pulse, her mind locking onto every displaced civilian in the immediate vicinity. She could feel their fear, hear their frantic thoughts as if they were her own. It was overwhelming, but she pushed past the noise, weaving her power through the chaos. A shimmering, golden field enveloped the civilians, freezing them momentarily in time to shield them from the surrounding inferno.

Morgan’s eyes snapped open, now glowing with the same luminous energy. "Get ready."

With a wave of her hand, the civilians vanished, disappearing in a cascade of golden sparks. They reappeared miles away, in the secure confines of the New York SHIELD base. Morgan’s power locked onto the coordinates instinctively, drawn to the one place she knew was fortified enough to keep them safe.

"Base confirms the civilians are secure," came a voice over her comms—Agent Hill, monitoring the situation from SHIELD HQ. "What was Bruce thinking taking you in such a dangerous place?" She grumbled.

Morgan smirked. "Oh, c'mon. Where's your sense of adventure, Aunt Maria? Besides, I'm here to help. I have all the power of an Infinity Stone. A little volcanic eruption is no match for me."

Agent Hill sighed. "I swear, if anything happens to you, he will never hear the end of it. Bruce, what in the world are you doing?"

"Working on getting the Flame Blast ring. The volcano isn't our only problem," Bruce answered tersely, his voice strained. On his HUD, he could see Morgan had safely transported the civilians out of danger. "That freaking Mandarin is back to life and I'm guessing Mephesto is involved in this."

"So all these anomalies are because of the rings? I'll send Harley and Selina on the other parts. If Mandarin is back then he'll go for the rings, we can't let that happen," Maria said.

"Yeah, send them and the Sentinels to the position. Saving civilians is our main priority," Bruce replied as he stopped over the volcano.

"Roger that," Maria answered before ending the call.

Bruce looked down at the fiery depths of the volcano, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he focused on pinpointing the source of the eruption. He deactivated the armor and cracked his neck. He shot into the crater, his body moving with the speed and agility of a seasoned hero. He scanned the lava, his enhanced vision locking onto the faint traces of energy rippling through the molten rock, and the rings were connected, so he could feel them even if they were buried deep.

He reached into the lava, his fingers sinking into the dense, magma-like material. His Kryptonian-enhanced body remained unaffected by the extreme heat. He tore through it and went deeper until he found a humanoid creature floating in the center of the volcano. That looked like some isolated place surrounded by lava and heat. Its skin was bright red, with a reptilian texture. It had sharp claws, fangs, and a pair of small wings protruding from its back.

The creature opened its eyes, revealing two pools of endless darkness. "Well, well, if it isn't the mighty Ironman back from death." it hissed. "Master said you'd try to stop his plan." It raised its right hand, revealing the Flame Blast Right. "I won't let you!"

It aimed its fist at Bruce and blasted a beam of fire at him.

He simply slapped the beam away. Before throwing his heat vision at the creature, piercing through its head. It died without knowing how.

Bruce flew toward it and grabbed the ring, putting it on his finger. Then he looked through the hole created by his heat vision, "Tsk. I know you are watching me, you motherfucker. Whatever you are planning, I'm gonna stop it. As for your minion, Mandarin. I'll send him back to hell soon enough." With that, he punched the creature's head, splattering its blood all around, before flying out of the crater.

The unstable volcano began to stabilize. Morgan noticed the change and used her power to stabilize it further.

Outside, Morgan was waiting for him. "You got the ring! Cool, let's go to the next one?" She asked, smiling brightly.

"Let's go."

Bruce put his suit on and they flew toward the next destination.

...

[Amazon]

The Amazon rainforest was lush and alive, pulsating with an energy that seemed ancient and untamed. But now, a malevolent presence marred its vibrancy. In a secluded clearing, where the sun struggled to pierce the dense canopy, a temple of stone and vine rose like a forgotten sentinel. At its center, the Impact Beam Ring lay on a pedestal, glowing faintly, its energy warping the air around it.

Mandarin stood before the ring. His eyes glowed with the hellfire, a little boost granted by Mephisto after Bruce messed up their plan. "Finally," he hissed, reaching for the ring. "Once the rings are mine, not even death will hold me back again."

Before his hand could close around the ring, two heat vision beams hit him, sending him flying into the jungle.

"You're a persistent little cockroach, aren't you?" came a teasing, mocking voice. Selina emerged from the shadows, in her signature black nanite suit. Her hair was tied back, and she was holding a whip. Her piercing gaze locked onto Mandarin. "You should've stayed dead. Would've saved everyone a lot of trouble."

Mandarin jumped up as the hole in his chest began to heal with fiery energy. "And who might you be?" He pointed his finger at her.

Selina cracked her whip, the sharp snap echoing through the dense jungle. Her smirk deepened as she circled the Mandarin, her movements fluid, almost feline. "Who am I? Just a cat playing with a very flammable mouse."

Mandarin growled, his fiery eyes narrowing. He extended his hand, summoning a torrent of Chi energy. The golden, crackling force surged toward Selina with devastating speed.

She didn’t flinch. Her enhanced reflexes kicked in, and she twisted gracefully to the side, the energy beam narrowly missing her and obliterating a tree behind her. Without missing a beat, she lashed her whip toward the pedestal where the Impact Beam Ring rested.

The whip coiled around the ring with precision, the nanite threads adjusting to the delicate object. With a sharp tug, Selina yanked it from its resting place. The moment the ring left the pedestal, the air seemed to shudder, a low hum reverberating as its power briefly destabilized the environment.

Mandarin roared, his voice like the crackle of fire on dry wood. "You dare steal what is mine?" He launched himself at her, his movements unnaturally fast as he channeled the fiery energy coursing through his veins.

Selina backflipped onto a low-hanging branch, the ring secured in her grip. Her dark suit shimmered in the dappled light, adapting to her every motion. She gave him a mocking wave. "Steal? Now, that's a word I haven't heard in a while. So, what are you gonna do about it? Talk me to death?"

"Arggg!" Mandarin snarled, slamming his fists into the ground. The earth trembled as Chi rippled outward, disrupting the terrain and sending chunks of stone and soil flying. Selina flew up in the air, hovering a few feet above the ground. "You’re going to regret that," He clenched his fists, summoning another surge of energy. This time, he jumped up and literally flew leaving a trail of flame, and appeared before Selina.

"DIE!!" He threw the punch with enough force to shatter a mountain, but Selina simply stopped it with a single finger. The shockwave tore through the jungle, flattening several trees and leaving a deep crater on the forest floor.

"That's no way to treat a lady," Selina said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She punched through his heart and grabbed his spine. She then ripped his spine out, blood spraying all over her suit and rained down on the forest below. She threw her on the ground and burned his remaining with her heat vision. "Goodbye for real this time."

She turned around as she contacted Bruce, "Hey, got one ring... And Mandarin..."

[Booom!] A fiery fist slammed onto Selina's back, creating a pillar of fire, smoke, and dust.

Mandarin's body healed and his soul returned back to his body. His Chi was replaced with Hellfire.

[Ironman] Ch: 21 [Nanites, Arc Reactor, and a red-head]

Words: 2.5k.

====

[Tony Stark's new facility in Malibu] [1 year later]

The large complex, sitting on a cliff with a view of the Pacific Ocean, looked like any other big facility, but with advanced securities. Officially under the Stark Industries banner, it was known as the Stark Research and Innovation Center (SRIC). Unofficially, Tony simply called it home.

Inside, the core of the facility was full of activity—not from people, but from machines. Robots buzzed and mechanical arms moved quickly, doing exact jobs controlled by a group of smart AIs. Hermes, Tony's main AI, managed the whole place, organizing every machine, task, and new invention. Tony turned Elena into a specialized medical AI. It assisted in his current obsession: liquid nanotechnology for medical applications and finding a way to get the tumor/Infinity Gem out of his head. And, of course, his loyal robotic helpers, Dum-E and U, lent their often comedic, if clumsy, support.

When Tony first arrived in Malibu, his vision was clear, but the path to achieving it required starting from scratch. He initially intended to hire the best minds in the world-renowned engineers, scientists, and visionaries. However, the more he considered the complexities of collaboration, the more he realized something crucial: he worked best alone. Collaboration could come later, when his foundation was unshakable.

The solution was automation. With Hermes at the helm, Tony focused on designing a small army of robots and automated manufacturing systems. These machines, precise and tireless, began constructing more machines, enabling an exponential growth in productivity. The facility soon boasted fully automated labs, workshops, and cleanrooms, all tailored to his specifications.

"Why deal with interns when I can build perfect ones?" Tony quipped to himself, watching one of his robotic arms assemble a complex circuit with meticulous precision.

His first major project was the development of liquid nanites—a concept that combined advanced materials science, robotics, and bioengineering. These nanites, if perfected, would be capable of cellular-level repairs, healing injuries, neutralizing toxins, and even enhancing human biology.

The process had been grueling, requiring breakthroughs in multiple disciplines.

Tony began by designing a nanoparticle chassis composed of a unique vibranium-alloy derivative he synthesized, capable of self-replication under controlled conditions. However, to achieve his goal, he needed an in-depth understanding of the human body—something that was outside his initial expertise. Not to mention the quantity of vibranium was very limited. He had to rope his dad into giving him the metal. So, he was in no position to waste such important material.

"So, you're telling me I need to become a doctor now?" He muttered after his initial research left him grappling with gaps in his knowledge.

His solution? Learn. Fast.

Thanks to the Infinity Gem embedded in his brain, Tony's intelligence operated on a level far beyond normal human capacity as usual. While most people spent over a decade earning MDs and PhDs, Tony devoured medical textbooks, streamed lectures, and conducted virtual surgeries within months. By the fourth month, he had amassed a knowledge base comparable to that of seasoned medical researchers.

Well, he wanted to get his license but it would require time and time is what he doesn't have. So, he simply began the nanites creation...

The development of the new variants of nanites wasn't easy.

Prototype Alpha: A disaster. The nanites successfully targeted and repaired synthetic tissue but caused severe inflammation when introduced into living organisms.

"Okay, maybe I shouldn't trust Elena's optimism. Back to the drawing board."

Prototype Beta: Marginally better. The nanites avoided immune rejection but failed to synchronize properly with nerve signals, rendering them ineffective for delicate repairs.

Tony sighed, muttering, "I need to teach these little guys teamwork."

Prototype Gamma: A breakthrough. By incorporating biomimetic algorithms into the nanites' programming, Tony achieved something extraordinary: the machines could adapt to their host's physiology, integrating seamlessly with natural healing processes.

The first successful trial on living tissue occurred late one night in the lab. A synthesized organ sample, riddled with artificial micro-tears, was healed flawlessly within minutes. Tony watched the data streaming across his holographic displays, a triumphant grin spreading across his face.

"That's it. That's the future," he whispered, leaning back in his chair.

Despite the breakthrough, Tony was acutely aware of the project's limitations. The nanites required massive computational power to operate in real-time, which made them impractical for widespread use—yet. Additionally, scaling production to a level where the technology could benefit millions presented logistical nightmares.

"There has to be a better solution."

A light bulb lit up in Tony's mind, and he started designing a specialized AI that could control and coordinate the nanites.

He called it "Legion."

The Legion AI, capable of directing trillions of nanites simultaneously... Well, it's still a work in progress.

Tony leaned back in his chair, the holographic blueprints of "Legion" still floating before him, in his lab. The AI’s architecture was complex and far more advanced than Hermes or Elena. It needed to be—it was destined to manage not just trillions of nanites but also their seamless integration into the human body.

Yet, as he watched the simulations unfold, something gnawed at him. The computational demands of Legion were astronomical. Even with his most advanced servers and Hermes optimizing every process, it wasn’t enough. And that meant one thing: power.

Real, unrelenting, near-limitless power.

Tony’s gaze shifted to the far corner of the lab, where a stack of old blueprints sat collecting dust.

"It's time for the Arc Reactor."

The first step was updating the design. With the resources at Stark Research and Innovation Center, he quickly digitized the blueprints, overlaying modern schematics onto the old foundation. He tapped into Hermes to simulate the design in 3D, identifying weak points and areas for optimization.

The heart of the reactor was the challenge: a vibranium core. Vibranium’s unique energy-absorbing properties made it the perfect material for stabilizing the reactor’s immense energy output. But Tony had a limited supply. Convincing his father to part with even a fraction of the Stark family’s vibranium reserves had been a diplomatic nightmare. "Borrowing" a little more for this project? Let’s just say Howard didn’t need to know—yet.

"Alright, you beautiful metal, don’t let me down," He muttered, placing a piece of vibranium into a precision laser cutter. The core needed to be flawless—one imperfection and the reactor would fail catastrophically.

Tony didn’t just want to build an Arc Reactor. He wanted to build the world’s first miniaturized Arc Reactor. The version he envisioned could sit in the palm of his hand, a marvel of engineering capable of powering Legion and a dozen other projects he hadn’t even conceived yet.

This required a deep dive into electromagnetism, particle physics, and quantum mechanics. Well, he got that part covered.

The biggest obstacle was heat dissipation. A device so compact running at such high energy levels threatened to melt itself—or worse, explode. Tony solved the issue by designing a multi-layer cooling system, utilizing nanofluidic channels that cycled liquid nitrogen around the core in microseconds.

After weeks of work, countless failed simulations, and a few sleepless nights, the reactor was finally ready for its first live test.

The lab was eerily silent as Tony placed the small, circular device into a containment chamber. Hermes chimed in. "Energy stabilization parameters set. System diagnostics green across the board."

"Thanks, Hermes. Now let’s see if this baby sings," Tony replied, fingers hovering over the activation button.

With a deep breath, he pressed the button.

The Arc Reactor hummed to life. A soft blue glow emanated from the vibranium core, casting dancing shadows across the walls. The hum grew louder, steadier, as the reactor stabilized. Data scrolled across Tony’s holographic display: Output stable at 20.2 gigajoules per second. No heat anomalies detected.

"Fuck yeah!" Tony grinned, a triumphant laugh escaping him. "I was aiming for 5.5-6, but 20.2... Damn! I'm genius."

With the Arc Reactor now operational, his mind buzzed with possibilities. This wasn’t just a power source for Legion—it was a gateway to a new era of energy independence.

He envisioned cities powered by reactors the size of suitcases, cars that never needed refueling, and satellites capable of indefinite operation. And, of course, the reactor would make the perfect centerpiece for his Iron Man suit—a concept he hadn’t touched yet but was growing more tempting by the day.

"One step at a time," Tony reminded himself, though his smirk betrayed the flood of ideas racing through his mind.

He leaned back in his chair, the glow of the Arc Reactor reflected in his eyes. His father had laid the groundwork, but he completed the vision.

With the Arc Reactor ready, Tony knew it was time to push the Legion AI and the nanites into their next phase. The power constraints that had limited their functionality were no longer an issue. The focus shifted to scalability and precision. However, the AI was still in the learning phase and would take a week or two.

"Sir. You've been working nonstop. How about you take a break?" Hermes suggested, concerned for his creator's mental health.

"You're right, Hermes," Tony stood up from his chair and stretched his arms, followed by a large yawn. "Well, time to get some fresh air. Put the security to Red Level. Capture if any unauthorized person trespasses. If the case of property harm or break-in, break their limbs and throw them in the containment chamber."

"Red Level, security level 12. Capture and lock-up protocols in place," Hermes acknowledged.

"Great. Be right back," Tony said, walking out of his lab.

He went to the bathroom and took a quick bath, then got dressed. Afterward, he took his wallet and keys, then walked out of the facility.

...

Tony walked down the winding path leading from the facility to the beach. The salty breeze whipped through his hair, carrying with it the rhythmic crash of the waves below. Malibu was a haven of calm, but Tony’s mind buzzed with the afterglow of his latest triumph. The Arc Reactor was a game-changer, but now, he needed a reward for himself—junk food and a cold Coke sounded like perfection.

The beachside restaurant wasn’t fancy. It was one of those casual joints with outdoor seating, a few surfboards propped up for decoration, and a large fish prop on display. The aroma of grilled burgers, fries, and fried seafood hung in the air, pulling Tony in like a tractor beam.

As he entered, the place was buzzing with chatter, the sound of plates clinking, and the occasional laughter of patrons enjoying the laid-back atmosphere. The place was packed up with one seat open.

A woman sat at the table, her back to him. Her auburn hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, a few strands escaping to frame her face. She wore a simple blue shirt and short jeans, but her posture gave her an air of quiet elegance. She looked tired, her shoulders slightly slouched as she flipped through a menu, occasionally glancing into her purse.

“Hey, is this seat taken?” he walked to her and asked casually, pointing to the chair next to her.

The woman turned, startled for a moment before her expression softened. Her green irises locked on his, 'Wow!' He noticed how beautiful the woman before her was and there was something different about her but couldn't put his finger on it and he became curious.

“Not at all,” she said, her tone polite but tinged with weariness. She pushed her purse aside to make room.

He took the seat, gesturing to the bartender for a menu. “Rough day?” he asked, flashing a disarming smile. The waiter quickly came and handed him the menu.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “You could say that. It’s been one of those days where everything that can go wrong… does.”

“Ah, the old Murphy’s Law special,” Tony said, leaning on the counter. “Let me guess. You dropped your phone, missed a deadline, and now you’re debating whether fries or onion rings will make it better?”

The corner of her mouth twitched into a reluctant smile. “Close. It’s more like figuring out if I can afford either.”

Tony’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, quickly replaced by a look of genuine concern. “That bad, huh?” he asked, his voice softening.

The woman sighed, clearly debating whether to confide in this stranger. After a brief pause, she leaned back in her chair, running a hand through her hair. “Let’s just say life’s been throwing me curveballs left and right.”

Tony rested his elbows on the counter, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “Care to share? I promise I’m a great listener. And who knows, I might even have a solution or two up my sleeve.”

She snorted softly, shaking her head. “Doubt it, but sure, why not? I could use a vent.” She took a sip of water from her glass before continuing. “I just graduated with a BBA. Landed what I thought was my dream job—decent pay, opportunities for growth, the work. But then my boss decided my resume wasn’t the only thing he wanted to evaluate.”

Tony’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, letting her continue.

“I turned him down, obviously,” she said, her tone sharp with lingering anger. “But the guy wouldn’t take no for an answer. Last night, he cornered me in his office. I warned him to back off, but he didn’t listen.”

“What happened?” Tony asked, leaning in slightly.

Her lips curved into a bitter smile. “Let’s just say he’s going to have a hard time breathing and walking for a while. I might’ve… busted his nose and nuts.”

Tony couldn’t help it, "Hahahaha." She glared at him. He raised his hands defensively. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at the image of this creep getting what he deserves.”

“Well, he did,” she said, her tone softening slightly. “But it didn’t end there. Security showed up, the cops were called, and guess who got arrested for assault? Yours truly.”

“You’re kidding.” He closed the menu.

“Nope.” She rubbed her temples, exhaustion evident in her movements. “I had to bribe my way out, and now I’m down to my last few bucks. Rent’s due next week, and I’ve got no idea what I’m going to do.”

Tony studied her for a moment, his mind working fast. This wasn’t just anyone sitting next to him—this was someone with guts, someone who didn’t back down when pushed. He admired that.

“You’ve had one hell of a week,” he said, his tone sympathetic. “But hey, for what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t feel like it right now.”

"Ah! Look at us, talking without knowing each other's names," Tony remarked. He extended his hand toward her. "Tony Stark."

She shook his hand. "Natasha Romanoff."

[Ironman] Ch: 20 [Howard and Tony]

The fire crackled in the fireplace as Howard Stark relaxed in his leather chair, staring at his son. The room went through some changes in the past few years. Now, there was a big polished mahogany desk with a Lego city structure built on it. The book selves looked new, not to mention the big globe near the window with pins on certain locations. Tony sat across from him, legs crossed, with the relaxed confidence that only a seventeen-year-old prodigy could muster.

"So, Tony," Howard began, his voice calm but firm. "What’s the plan? You’re not going to lounge around the lab all day tinkering with hot rods, are you?"

Tony raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Tinkering is how I relax, Dad. Some people play golf, I build things. You should try it sometime—it might loosen you up."

Howard chuckled, shaking his head. "I’m serious. You’ve got a mind that could change the world. Stark Industries is waiting for you. The board’s already chomping at the bit to see when you’ll start learning the ropes."

Tony leaned back, his expression contemplative. "Yeah, about that. Do I have to follow the script? Take over the company, become the face of Stark Industries, shake hands with senators, and attend boring galas? Because, honestly, that sounds like a snoozefest."

Howard folded his arms, his tone sharpening slightly. "It’s not just about running a company, son. Stark Industries is more than a business—it’s a legacy. Your grandfather built it, and I’ve spent my life making sure it stays on the top. The work we do has a real-world impact. Defense contracts keep this country safe. Our innovations drive progress. That’s not something to shrug off."

Tony already knew about all that. However, he has a goal. So far everything went according to his plan. He saved Janet, annihilated 90% of Hydra, killed Reed before he could become the Maker, messed up Mandarin International, and even managed to put it all on Victor. And he managed to save his parents, atleast for now. He bought time. However, the tumor in his brain still remains.

He planned to somehow get rid of that tumor or future Infinity Gem out of his head. Although he got rid of Reed, there's still a chance that someone might come after him in the future like another Maker from an alternate timeline. And the pain... Well, it sometimes gets too much, and he blacks out. It's like a ticking timebomb inside his head, waiting for the right trigger to activate it. He needs to be ready for anything that could happen in the future. So, if the present technology and knowledge can't get rid of it, then he's going to have to invent it. To do that, he needed time, money, materials, and a place where he could work without getting interrupted.

So, he planned to talk his dad into giving him what he wanted, in a bit roundabout way,

He sighed, "I know, Dad. I know the company matters. But... I don’t want to just inherit your legacy. I want to build my own. Something bigger, something... different."

Howard’s expression softened. He leaned forward, "Then tell me. What is it you want, Tony? What drives you?"

Tony hesitated, running a hand through his hair. "Honestly? I’m still figuring that out. But I know this much: I love creating things. Not for a board of directors or a government contract, but for the sake of creation itself. There’s so much potential out there—clean energy, advanced AI, medical tech—and I want to explore it. Not because I have to, but because I can."

Howard regarded his son thoughtfully. "So, you’re saying you want freedom. Freedom to innovate without the weight of expectations."

He nodded. "Exactly. I want to make things that matter—not because they’re profitable, but because they’re necessary. And yeah, maybe I’ll make a few mistakes along the way, but at least they’ll be my mistakes. Besides, you are there to help me out when I need direction, right?"

Howard leaned back in his chair, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You remind me of someone."

Tony tilted his head, intrigued. "Who? Grandpa?"

Howard chuckled. "No. Me. When I took over Stark Industries, everyone told me what I should do, and how I should run the business. But I ignored them and built something on my own terms. You’ve got that same spark, Tony. And as much as the board would hate me for saying this... you don’t have to follow their playbook. You just have to follow your instincts."

Tony looked up, surprised. "So, you’re saying I don’t have to take over Stark Industries?"

Howard shook his head. "I’m saying it’s your choice. But whatever you decide, don’t take it lightly. If you walk away, the company will survive. But if you step in, you have the chance to transform it into something the world’s never seen before."

For a moment, silence filled the room, broken only by the crackle of the fire.

Tony met his father’s gaze, a new sense of respect flickering in his eyes, 'Gotta ya.'

He took a deep breath before speaking. "Okay, Dad, how about this: I don’t take over Stark Industries right now. Instead, you give me a shot—my own shot—under the Stark Industries banner. A new sector. Let me run it my way, focus on the future I see, and prove to you what I can do."

Howard raised an eyebrow, curiosity mingling with skepticism. "A new sector? And what exactly would this sector be focused on?"

Tony’s eyes lit up, the passion behind them unmistakable. "Innovation. No defense contracts, no politicians breathing down my neck—just pure, unfiltered progress. Clean energy, AI, advanced materials, medical tech—stuff that’s going to matter fifty years from now, not just next quarter’s earnings."

Howard leaned back, considering his son’s words. "And you think you can pull that off? You’re asking me to hand over resources, staff, and capital for something that might not see a return for decades."

Tony shrugged, his confidence back in full force. "Risk is part of innovation, right? You took risks when you took over Stark Industries. I’m asking for the same chance. Give me three years, Dad. That’s it. Three years to show you what I can build. If I don’t deliver, we’ll go back to the original plan—handshakes, galas, the whole deal. But if I succeed..." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "If I succeed, you’ll have a company that’s not just leading—it’s redefining the game."

Howard tapped his fingers on the armrest, the crackling fire casting flickering shadows across his face. "Three years. Isn't that too short to achieve much?"

Tony shook his head, his voice firm. "No, it isn't. Three years is enough to get something started. To create a foundation. I know I can do it—all you have to do is trust me."

Howard regarded his son thoughtfully, his expression unreadable. Then his lips twitched in a reluctant smile. "You’ve always been persuasive, I’ll give you that. Alright, I'll give you everything you need, no question asked. Capital, manpower, materials... You will have everything. But you have to prove me wrong—not just with your talk, but with results. I need to see the world-changing, paradigm-shifting, history-making innovation you claim you can deliver. Otherwise, we do things my way."

Tony nodded, standing up. "I will. And you won’t be sorry."

Howard stood as well, a faint gleam of pride in his eyes.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Tony turned. "You made any progress on the Arc Reactor?"

Howard let out a sigh. "Not yet. Although your calculations back then helped with the design I was able to shrink the giant size of it by a lot. The energy fluctuation also stabilized. But it's still a long way from being a clean energy source for everyone though."

"Wanna make a bet?" He asked, with a grin.

Howard looked at him. "You want to build the Arc Reactor?"

"Yep!"

"And what are the stakes?"

Tony thought for a moment. "An island. The best one. And out of the records and grids."

Howard looked at him in surprise. "You know how many islands are out there?"

"I am sure I can narrow it down."

Howard raised an eyebrow. "Okay. If you do it, you get your island. And if you lose..."

Tony took out a little drive and handed it to his father. "Access to Pentagon. They are using Mandarin International technology. I'm pretty sure what that means, right? You get to prove that their technology is flawed and weak. That will give you a chance to make a big deal with the officials. And a deal of such scale means money. Plus, with the mess going on with Mandarin International, I'm pretty sure you won't let this chance go. So..." He smirked.

"Pentagon? You are kidding, right?" Howard looked at him with concern.

"Am I?" Tony said as he placed the drive on the table. "Well, now that I think of it. It'd be a waste to wait for them to recover. Forget the bet, you can have it, and don't forget my island."

With that, he left.

As Tony left, Howard couldn't help but laugh. His son is one step ahead of him again. He smiled, shaking his head in amusement. It was hard to believe that Tony was still so young. He already had a clear vision of what he wanted to do with his life and wasn't afraid to speak his mind. It reminded Howard of himself when he was younger—a little less mature, maybe, but just as driven and ambitious.

And it seemed like those qualities would serve Tony well as he took on his next challenge: building a new division for Stark Industries. A division dedicated to research and development of cutting-edge technologies with the potential to revolutionize the world. A division that could change the future...

'So, you aren't after profits... But want to make the world a better place. Haha... Count on me, son,' He chuckled.

And if Howard knew anything, it was that when Tony set his sights on something, he didn't stop until he achieved it. Whether it was mastering quantum mechanics, inventing a new kind of robotics and car engine, or winning the science fair competition, he always found a way to make his dreams a reality. And this time would be no different.

The future was waiting, and Howard knew that the world wouldn't be ready for what his son had in store...

The Future is Now.

------

AN: Next chapter will begin after 1 year time skip. And if you are wondering what he did with Reed's research, well, he'll learn from them and modify them.

Now, what are your thoughts on> What if Tony recreates the exact scenario where the Fantastic Four got their power? But instead of Reed, there will be Tony. Do you think Tony needs some kind of super power other than his already super brain?

[Batman x Ironman] Ch: 67 [The Remaker Ring]

"Are we going after the rings?" Morgan asked Bruce. She was excited about this. After all, this was her first mission, and the rush of fighting alongside her father felt amazing.

"You sound excited about it," Bruce commented with a smirk. "But, yes. We need to collect the rings and keep them safe. You know why, right?"

"Because the rings are a great power source and they're dangerous in the wrong hands."

"That too, but there's also a greater danger than the rings. Whoever brought back Mandarin from hell must be powerful and dangerous. Probably a demon and they must have made some kind of deal. If I were to guess, it's either Mephisto or Lucifer," He explained.

"Well, let's kick their asses," Morgan smirked.

"I wouldn't be so excited if I were you. Mephisto is not your regular demon. That guy is dangerous and manipulative. Once you make a deal with him, that's the end of you," He warned her. "The Devil is also dangerous, but he's less aggressive than Mephisto. So, you gotta be careful. Never make a deal with the devil."

"Alright. No deal with the devil," Morgan nodded.

"So, where do we start?"

"Check your HUD. It's connected to the global network. The red dots on the map are where the anomalies are happening. So, we have to investigate them and see if there's a ring in there or something else. If there's a ring, we grab it, and if it's not, then we move on to the next one," Bruce explained.

Morgan nodded as she checked the map and the nearest red dot was in London, England.

"How about you take the lead?" Bruce suggested with a smile.

"What?" She looked at him with a confused expression. But she felt happy. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. You know what you're doing, so I want you to take the lead. Think of this as part of your training."

"Well, alright then," Morgan grinned as she sped up her flight, leaving Bruce behind. "Let's go, Dad."

Bruce chuckled as he flew after her.

...

[London]

The skies over London were dark, a thick green haze swirling ominously around a small town on the city's outskirts. Poison fog blanketed the area, and a constant drizzle of acid rain hissed as it splattered onto the scorched ground and abandoned vehicles. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had erected a perimeter, guiding the last few civilians into evacuation transports while monitoring the spreading devastation.

Bruce Wayne and Morgan hovered in the air, their suits shielded from the acidic environment by advanced nanotech. From above, the scale of the devastation became clear—the town's buildings were crumbling under the corrosive rain, and the once-vibrant streets were now barren, eerie echoes of life.

Morgan’s HUD scanned the area, marking anomalies and biohazard zones. "This place looks like it’s been hit by a chemical weapon. But this… this feels worse. Are you seeing what I’m seeing?"

Bruce nodded, his voice calm but edged with concern. "The environmental destruction is unnatural. This isn’t a spill or an attack—this is the Remaker Ring’s influence."

Morgan tilted her head, puzzled. "Remaker Ring? What does it do?"

Bruce landed on the rooftop of a partially collapsed building, gesturing for Morgan to follow. "The Remaker Ring manipulates matter on a molecular level. It can transform the very fabric of the environment. From what we’re seeing, it’s being used destructively, reshaping the land into something inhospitable. Whoever’s wielding it is either reckless or has a purpose for this chaos."

Morgan frowned as she scanned the horizon. "Let’s find out. S.H.I.E.L.D. looks like they’ve got the civilians covered, so where do we start?"

"You are the boss," Bruce smiled. "This is your show."

"Right! Scan for heat signatures." Morgan ordered as she flew toward the source of the destruction.

Bruce looked back at the agents and waved his hand before following her.

A few minutes later, they arrived at an abandoned warehouse. The building was in ruins, its walls crumbling and its roof caved in. A swirling vortex of green energy spun in the center of the room, pulsing with an unnatural light. The poison was too concentrated here, the air almost solid, the floor cracked and splintered by acid.

The acid rain sizzled on their suits, but the nanites adjusted to the situation.

Morgan landed in front of the vortex, studying it cautiously. "It looks like this is the source of the chaos. But what is it? A portal to another dimension?" She activated her scanner, but it was unable to penetrate the vortex. "My scanners aren't picking up anything."

"There are some things that can't be detected by technology," Bruce said as he landed beside her. "Try your infinity energy to rip through it."

Morgan nodded, holding her hands out and focusing. The power within her flowed through her body and into her palms, a golden glow emanating from her hands. She channeled the energy toward the vortex, creating a beam of light that ripped through the swirling energy.

As the light touched the vortex, the energy collapsed in on itself, vanishing.

"Nice work!" Bruce praised.

Morgan smiled, then scanned the area for heat signatures again. Her HUD lit up, detecting two figures in the corner of the room.

She narrowed her eyes as the HUD identified two figures melded together in an abomination of flesh and metal, the result of the Remaker Ring’s warped influence. The grotesque creature had multiple arms, twisted limbs, and faces stretched unnaturally across its form, a chilling fusion of two unfortunate souls. In its grasp, a glowing ring pulsed with power, embedded within its malformed chest like a beating heart.

"What the... Oh, God! That's horrible," She felt sorry for the poor souls.

"Careful. Don't bring emotions into a fight. It will make you weak. The thing before you is nothing but a monster. Treat it like one. Whoever they were, died a long time ago," Bruce advice her.

The monster let out a guttural growl, its glowing eyes locking onto Morgan as she stepped forward.

"I’ve got this," Morgan said firmly, her tone confident as she glanced at Bruce. She took a deep breath. "I’ll handle it."

Bruce nodded but didn’t relax, his sharp gaze scanning the area for any other threats. "Be careful. That thing isn’t just dangerous—it’s desperate. And desperation makes monsters unpredictable."

Morgan nodded. "Got it, Dad."

The creature lunged, its massive arms swinging with terrifying speed. Morgan dodged effortlessly, her suit’s thrusters propelling her into a graceful flip. She countered with a blast of concentrated energy from her palms, striking the creature’s side and forcing it to stagger.

"Alright, big guy. Let’s dance!" Morgan taunted, circling the monster with calculated precision. She could have taken it down with her power but decided to test out the suit. It was her old dream to become a hero like her father after all. She dreamt of fighting villains in suit of armor. Right now, it was her chance.

"GRRRR!!!" The abomination roared, swiping at her again, but this time its attack carried a burst of corrosive energy. The acidic blast narrowly missed Morgan, splattering against the ground and leaving deep scorch marks.

"Whoa, nasty! Alright, time to get serious," she muttered, her HUD analyzing the creature’s movements and weak points.

She activated her suit’s pulse blades, twin beams of golden energy extending from her wrists. With a burst of speed, Morgan darted toward the creature, slicing through one of its arms in a blur of motion. The severed limb fell to the ground, writhing before dissolving into a puddle of acidic goo.

The monster howled in pain but retaliated with a powerful stomp, sending a shockwave that knocked Morgan off balance. She recovered mid-air, her thrusters stabilizing her just as the creature lunged again. This time, it opened its misshapen mouths, releasing a deafening scream that rattled the entire warehouse.

"Not today!" Morgan shouted, firing another energy blast directly into its chest. The creature stumbled, and for a moment, the glow of the Remaker Ring flickered.

Morgan’s eyes narrowed. "That’s your weak spot."

She surged forward, weaving around the monster’s frantic attacks with finesse. Her pulse blades cut through its grotesque body, disarming and disabling it piece by piece. Finally, with one decisive strike, she plunged her blade into its chest, targeting the ring.

The monster convulsed, letting out a final, agonized wail before collapsing into a heap of dissolving flesh. The Remaker Ring fell from its chest, landing on the ground with a dull clink.

Morgan deactivated her blades and stepped forward cautiously. Her HUD scanned the ring, confirming it was intact but still radiating an immense amount of energy.

Bruce extended his hand. He immediately felt the connection to the ring. He pulled it to him and it came flying at him like it was magnetically attracted to him. The ring floated before him, glowing with power. He could feel the ring calling to him, urging him to take it. To use its power. But he resisted.

"Yo, bitch. Don't try to play with my mind. I know you're not good news. So, be a good girl and stay within your limits unless you don't want a new body and become free of the ring's restraints," He said through telepathy. It wasn't a skill, but the connection with the rings.

"Oh my. You already found four rings. Very well. I'll stay here like a good girl, Master." A woman's voice spoke in his mind.

"Master?" Bruce's left eye twitched. 'Is this some kind of master slave fetish or something? From her voice, she seems horny.' He felt a shiver down his spine.

Morgan stepped up beside him. "We got the ring. What now?"

"Now we go after the next one..."

Ironman Poll result

Ist> Black Widow winner [I knew it lol] [Red Room arc]

2nd> Mystique and x23 [Weapon X arc]

3rd> Jessica Jones [No idea what arc I should write😅]

----

Finally, I got the shop feature. Now, you can buy the entire collection up to the latest chapter as 1 time purchase without subscribing.

[Spiderman] Ch: 5 [Skarlet and Frost]

Shang Tsung stood atop a jagged cliff overlooking a storm-tossed sea in this new realm. The fissure had brought him to a version of Earth unlike any he had encountered. It thrummed with power—ancient magic, celestial energy, and a plethora of forces both familiar and alien. His sorcery had anchored him to this realm, forming a concealed base within the hollowed-out chambers of a dormant volcano. The location was ideal—secluded and radiating latent energy he could siphon to stabilize the rift.

However, he took time to investigate the situation of that Earth and found out some critical information. With that done, he began the next part of his plan.

The sorcerer raised his hands, chanting in the guttural language of his dark arts. Tendrils of green energy spiraled outward, weaving into a shimmering, oval-shaped portal that pulsed with the otherworldly glow of Outworld. From the glowing portal he had conjured, two figures emerged. Skarlet, the Blood Mage, stepped out first, her crimson hair flowing wildly and her crimson armor glistening in the glow of the portal. She looked around, eyeing the unfamiliar landscape with suspicion.

A moment later, Frost, the cybernetic cryomancer, followed. Her short white hair was neatly brushed back and cold smoke was rising from her cybernetic armor.

“Tsung,” Skarlet said, her tone neutral. She stood tall, offering neither deference nor hostility. “The Emperor has sent me to assist. And to observe. What do you want?”

Shang Tsung’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “This Earth holds potential that could reshape Outworld’s fate. But its defenders are formidable. Subtlety will ensure our success here, and I’ve chosen you and Frost to act as my instruments.”

Skarlet’s crimson eyes narrowed. “Instruments? Careful how you phrase that, sorcerer. I am here under the Emperor’s command. I’ll carry out this mission because it serves Outworld—not you.”

Shang Tsung’s smile faltered for a moment before returning with practiced ease. “Of course, Skarlet. Your loyalty to the Emperor is unquestioned. But I trust you understand the need for cooperation... for now.”

Frost, unbothered by their exchange, interrupted. “What’s the task?”

Shang Tsung extended a hand, projecting images of Earth’s mightiest defenders into the air. Glowing silhouettes flickered: sorcerers wielding ancient magic, humans imbued with cosmic energy and forces unknown, and technological marvels rivaling the ingenuity of Outworld’s greatest minds. He stopped as the face of the strongest warrior on Earth appeared.

"Peter Parker, the strongest warrior of this realm. The most powerful being on this planet. After killing an Ancient God and a Titan with unimaginable power, Peter has eliminated more or less all evil from this planet. More or less..." Shang Tsung turned to Skarlet and Frost. "Do not approach him unless you want to die. First, infiltrate the society and blend in. Slowly gather information on the warriors, their weakness, strength... Everything. We cannot afford recklessness. Once you have done your task, inform me, and we will strike when it is time."

Skarlet folded her arms, her expression unreadable. “Blend in? You expect Frost and me to play spies? I hope you’ve prepared more than just pretty pictures for this mission.”

“You are here because you are resourceful,” Shang Tsung replied, his voice calm but edged with warning. “You will not have the luxury of brute force or overt sorcery. Use subtlety. Adapt.”

He extended a glowing gem toward Skarlet. “This artifact will shield you from detection by their magic and technology. Frost’s enhancements already provide similar protection.”

Skarlet took the gem without a word, studying it briefly before tucking it away. “Fine. But don’t forget, Tsung, I’m here because the Emperor ordered it. Not because I trust you. The moment you try something unpleasant...” She summoned an orb of blood over her palm. "I'll boil your blood and burn your inside out."

“Trust,” Shang Tsung said with a faint chuckle, “is not required. Results are.”

...

[Frost's side]

Frost, the cybernetic cryomancer, wasted no time. Cloaked by the artifact’s shielding magic, she made her way to the heart of Earth’s defenses: S.H.I.E.L.D.. Her reconnaissance had revealed a facility that hummed with activity, one of the many operational hubs maintained by the agency. This one, located in a repurposed oil rig off the Atlantic coast, was remote but vital—a data relay station that connected global intelligence to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s command centers.

Standing on a nearby ice shelf, Frost observed the base. Her breath, cold and misty, mingled with the arctic wind as she analyzed the patrol patterns and sensor arrays. Despite their advanced technology, the agents here were no match for her precision and stealth.

With a flick of her wrist, she summoned a shard of ice. "Let's begin," She shot it toward the facility’s communications array, embedding it in the relay tower. The shard pulsed with a faint blue light, releasing microscopic nanites into the system. Frost smiled as she felt the data streams pour into her cybernetic processors.

Inside the facility, the lights flickered. Agents scrambled to diagnose the cause, but by the time they realized they’d been breached, Frost was already inside. The air grew colder as she moved through the halls, her footsteps silent on the steel floors.

She entered the data vault—a fortified room containing sensitive files on Earth’s defenders, including their movements, abilities, and vulnerabilities. Placing a small, crystalline device onto the console, she began downloading the encrypted files.

Through the interface, Frost’s eyes scanned the files, noting key targets:

Stephen Strange: A sorcerer capable of bending time and space.

Carol Danvers: A cosmic powerhouse who could rival Outworld’s mightiest.

Wanda Maximoff: A wielder of chaos magic—dangerous but volatile.

Peter Parker: The apex defender of this realm, whose celestial power overshadowed all others.

Her focus lingered on Parker. The records spoke of his strength, his family, and his achievements. “You’re the crown jewel, aren’t you?” she muttered. “But even a diamond has flaws.”

The device beeped, signaling the download’s completion. Frost removed it, erased her tracks, and slipped out of the facility as quietly as she had entered. By the time the agents restored their systems, the intruder was long gone, leaving only a faint frost on the walls as a calling card.

...

[Skarlet's side]

While Frost infiltrated the light, Skarlet descended into darkness. The once-thriving underworld of Earth had been shattered by Peter Parker’s relentless crusade against crime. Few remnants remained—pockets of desperation clinging to the shadows.

In a decrepit bar hidden beneath the ruins of a long-abandoned warehouse, the dregs of society gathered. Superpowered criminals who had survived Parker’s purges drank in sullen silence, their spirits crushed and their numbers dwindling.

Skarlet entered the bar, her presence like a predator stalking prey. Her crimson hair flowed like blood, and her dark armor gleamed under the flickering neon sign above the entrance. She ignored the wary stares of the patrons as she made her way to the counter.

The bartender, a grizzled man with cybernetic arms, looked up. His mechanical fingers twitched as if instinctively preparing for a fight. “We’re closed,” he growled.

Skarlet smirked, leaning forward. “I’m not here for drinks.” Her voice was silky yet edged with menace. “I’m here for information. Who still stands in this pathetic excuse for an underworld?”

The bartender hesitated. Around the room, the patrons exchanged glances, some sneering, others shifting uneasily. One man, a burly figure with glowing red eyes, stood and cracked his knuckles. “You lost, lady?”

Skarlet didn’t even look at him. With a flick of her wrist, a tendril of blood shot out from her palm, wrapping around the man’s throat. She yanked him forward, her eyes gleaming as she whispered, “You’ll be the first.”

The man’s body convulsed as Skarlet drained him, his blood swirling into her as if it had a will of its own. He collapsed in a lifeless heap, and the room erupted into chaos.

The thugs took out their weapons... Guns, blades, claws, and even a chainsaw. They charged Skarlet as one, determined to put an end to this intruder. But the Blood Mage didn't even move from her place. Instead, she flicked her finger and a second later, everyone except the bartender exploded like water balloons. Blood and guts rained on Skarlet. She smiled, savoring the sweet taste of life as it dripped down her face. Flesh and guts were splattered everywhere like a set of a horror movie.

She turned back to the bartender, who was cowering behind the counter. "I think you were saying?"

"Th-the big crime bosses are dead," he stammered, his eyes wide with terror. "But there's a handful of survivors that still stick together. And there's the new Green Goblin, recruiting superpower humans."

Skarlet raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Green Goblin? That sounds like a clown name."

"He's got powers and stuff. And he's got this whole new gang—all of 'em with superpowers. I hear he's got plans for something big. Something to take out the heroes."

"That's useful," Skarlet said as she licked the blood off her lips. "Location, if you may?"

"Sahara desert, underground. That's all I know, I swear! I don't want no trouble."

"What use do I have now that you've told me everything?" Skarlet asked rhetorically before jumping over the counter and grabbing the bartender's face with both hands. She manipulated his blood, forcing him to look directly into her eyes.

The man struggled in vain, his face twisted in pain as all the blood began to rush to his face, "Arrrggg!!!"

"Sushh! It will be over soon." Skarlet purred and a moment later, his eyes popped out and blood began to gush out of all the holes in his face like a waterfall. She took a deep breath and sucked the air in, absorbing all the blood.

The bartender's body crumbled into a dry corpse, falling to the floor with a soft thud.

"Tsk. Bland..." Skarlet said as she licked the blood off her fingers, then grabbed the bottles behind the counter and took a sip. "Bleh."

With a flick of her wrist, she conjured a portal of blood, stepping through it and vanishing into the night.

...

[Ironman] Ch: 19 [The Ten Rings]

Words: 2.7k words

----

[Shanghai – Midnight]

Zhang Wei's command center was buzzing with activities. His top officers and skilled team members worked smoothly, getting ready for the counterattack. Zhang's face was serious, his eyes focused. He stood at the front of the operations table, giving out his commands.

"Enough," His voice cut through the noise. The room went quiet, everyone looking at him. "Hydra thinks they've outsmarted us. They think our problems mean we're weak. They think we can't fight back without falling apart. Let's show them how wrong they are."

He motioned to Mei-Ling, who stepped forward holding a tablet. "The Hydra outposts," Zhang went on. "Their main agents, bases, and supply routes. Are these locations confirmed?"

Mei-Ling nodded. “Forty confirmed outposts worldwide, each critical to Hydra’s logistics and chain of command. We’ve pinpointed vulnerabilities at each location.”

Zhang’s lips curled into a cold smile. “Then here is my decree: every outpost, every agent, every piece of Hydra infrastructure—destroy it. Leave no trace, no survivors. But”—his gaze swept the room—“we strike with precision. No collateral damage. Let the world see only the aftermath of our wrath, not the hand that delivered it.”

He turned to Lin. “Assemble the Shadow Operatives. This mission is theirs. Ensure they understand the importance of silence and speed. Hydra will not have the luxury of understanding what hit them until it’s too late.”

Lin bowed deeply. “It will be done, sir.”

...

[London – Hydra Communications Hub]

The first attack happened at 2:00 a.m. local time. Three Shadow Operatives sneaked into a Hydra communication center hidden under an old, abandoned warehouse in East London. They moved silently, like ghosts, and no one saw them until the guards began falling, either with their throats slit or necks snapped.

The leader of the operatives planted a timed bomb on the main server. Before the guards could react, the team vanished into the night. The explosion disrupted Hydra’s communications across Western Europe, creating confusion in their network.

[Rio de Janeiro – Logistics Depot]

At 3:15 a.m. local time, a Hydra logistics depot in Rio de Janeiro was hit. The operative, code-named Ghost, slipped through their perimeter defenses with ease. She sabotaged their fuel reserves and planted charges along the ammunition stores.

As the first light of dawn broke over the city, the depot erupted into flames. Hydra’s operations in South America ground to a halt as their resources burned to ash.

[Cairo – Covert Training Facility]

By 4:00 a.m. local time, a Hydra training camp in the desert near Cairo was completely destroyed. The Shadow Operatives used their deep understanding of the area to sneak in without being noticed. They quickly and efficiently took out both the instructors and the trainees in well-planned strikes.

[New York – Hydra Safehouse]

The strike in New York was personal. The safehouse that had sheltered Alexander Pierce’s operatives was breached at midnight. The Shadow Operative code-named Raven led the assault, leaving Hydra agents dead in their beds before they could draw a weapon.

By the time the sun rose over the city, Hydra’s presence had vanished, their influence cut off at the root.

[Tokyo – Research Facility]

The final strike came at 6:00 a.m. Tokyo time. A Hydra research facility developing advanced surveillance tech was targeted. The Mandarin’s agents planted viruses in their systems, corrupting years of data, and left the building engulfed in flames.

[Shanghai]

By the next evening, reports flooded into Zhang Wei’s command center. Hydra’s global infrastructure was in ruins. Forty outposts were annihilated, hundreds of agents died, and the remnants of their organization were thrown into chaos.

Lin approached Zhang, bowing deeply. “Sir, the mission is complete. Every target was neutralized with no trace of our involvement. Hydra’s retaliation capability has been crippled.”

Zhang nodded, satisfaction flickering across his otherwise stoic face. “Good. They will be too busy licking their wounds to pose a threat for some time. But this is not the end.”

He turned to Mei-Ling. “The bounty—any leads?”

Mei-Ling hesitated. “Not yet, sir. Whoever placed it remains in the shadows, though Hydra is convinced we were behind their exposure. Their remaining forces are now focused on retaliation against us.”

Zhang smirked. “Let them come. They will find nothing but death waiting for them.”

He strode to the window, gazing out at the illuminated city. “We will rebuild. Stronger, sharper, more vigilant. And as for the one who dared humiliate me...”

His fists clenched. “They will learn the price of betrayal. The Ten Rings do not forgive, and I do not forget.”

...

[Shanghai – Two Days Later] [Zhang Wei’s private office]

The Mandarin sat behind an ebony desk, his piercing gaze fixed on the digital reports scrolling across the holographic display. Hydra had been dealt a devastating blow, but the larger threat remained: the frozen assets, the international investigations, and the relentless scrutiny of global law enforcement.

The Mandarin’s empire was bleeding—not from an external force but from the systemic pressure of governments and agencies he once evaded with ease. Now, it was time to use another weapon: influence.

“Mei-Ling,” Zhang said, his voice sharp as a blade.

Mei-Ling, ever efficient, stepped forward with a tablet in hand. “Sir?”

“Contact our liaisons in the governments of China, Russia, and the United States. Use the discretionary accounts.”

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly. “All of them, sir?”

“Yes. All of them. Make it clear that Mandarin International’s cooperation is invaluable to their political and economic stability. If they refuse to drop the investigations, we will ensure they regret it.”

Mei-Ling hesitated, her tone cautious. “And if they cannot be bribed?”

Zhang’s lips curled into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “Then we remind them what happens when they make an enemy of the Ten Rings. Leaks about their own corruption, destabilization of their regional assets, and sabotage of key industries. Politicians and generals have skeletons, Mei-Ling. I will bury them under their own scandals if they do not comply.”

She nodded and moved to execute his orders.

[Washington D.C. – Midnight]

A high-ranking official sat alone in his study, staring at his encrypted laptop. An innocuous email had arrived hours earlier, marked with a simple subject line: “A Proposal.”

Inside, the message was anything but simple. It contained financial projections for a generous donation to his reelection campaign, backed by Mandarin International’s offshore holdings. The attachment also included a dossier—a chillingly detailed list of his personal indiscretions and financial misconduct, with timestamps, photos, and evidence to match.

The Mandarin’s message was clear: take the bribe, or be destroyed.

The official ran a trembling hand through his hair and reached for the secure phone on his desk. “Tell the task force to stand down,” he muttered. “We’ve hit a dead end on the Mandarin case.”

[Moscow – Morning]

The Mandarin’s emissary, a smooth-talking operative named Viktor, met with a senior Russian intelligence officer over a private breakfast. Over steaming tea and black bread, Viktor presented a thin folder.

“Mr. Zhang Wei understands your position,” Viktor said in flawless Russian. “He respects the sovereignty of your nation and wishes to be a friend to Russia. However, the charges against Mandarin International are damaging both our reputations.”

The officer opened the folder. Inside was a detailed map of an American missile site in Eastern Europe—information the Russians had been chasing for years. Viktor leaned forward.

“All Mr. Zhang asks is for your government to de-escalate the investigation. In return, he will ensure the Ten Rings’ operations avoid your territories entirely. Consider this a gesture of goodwill.”

The officer studied the map for a long moment before nodding. “I will see what can be done.”

[Beijing – Evening]

Back in his homeland, Zhang Wei leveraged his deep connections. He summoned a retired Politburo member to his office, offering tea and a polite conversation.

“You and I have always had a productive relationship,” Zhang began, his tone smooth yet firm. “Mandarin International has brought wealth and influence to our nation. These foreign investigations jeopardize everything we have built together.”

The elder official sipped his tea, his face unreadable. “What do you propose, Mr. Zhang?”

Zhang leaned forward. “Ensure that the government delays cooperation with Interpol and the IRS. Slow their progress. Distract them with other matters. In return, Mandarin International will double its investments in your infrastructure projects. I’ll also personally guarantee that your family’s business interests flourish.”

The official’s eyes narrowed. “And if I refuse?”

Zhang’s smile turned razor-sharp. “Then I’ll ensure every deal you’ve made in the last ten years becomes public knowledge. Your legacy, your family, your standing—it will all burn.”

The official’s shoulders stiffened, but after a moment, he nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

[Shanghai – Command Center]

Reports streamed in over the next 48 hours. Charges were quietly dropped or delayed in several jurisdictions. Investigations lost momentum as officials who once pursued the Mandarin suddenly found their priorities shifted. In some cases, Zhang’s bribes worked; in others, his threats hit their mark.

Lin approached Zhang, his expression a mix of relief and admiration. “Sir, the majority of the international pressure is easing. Interpol has deprioritized our case, and the IRS is mired in bureaucratic red tape. Hydra’s influence over certain agencies has also been diminished.”

Zhang nodded, his face calm. “Good. But this is only the beginning. We will rebuild stronger, more elusive. Let this be a reminder to our enemies: the Mandarin does not fall.”

He turned to Mei-Ling. “Ensure that the contacts we pulled owe us their loyalty. Their silence has a price, and I expect them to pay it when the time comes.”

“Yes, sir,” Mei-Ling replied, bowing.

As the room emptied, Zhang stood alone by the window once more, the city lights glinting in his dark eyes. The empire he had built was battered but unbroken. He had survived yet another storm, proving that even in the face of global opposition, the Mandarin’s reach remained unmatched.

“Let them believe they’ve won,” Zhang murmured to himself. “Let them rest easy for now. When I strike again, they won’t even see it coming.”

...

[One Week Later]

Zhang Wei sat at his desk, staring at the screen in disbelief. His secure account—an impenetrable fortress of wealth—was now empty. A total of $10.7 billion, siphoned away in the dead of night, leaving nothing but a mocking message on the account’s dashboard:

“The higher you rise, the harder you fall.”

His jaw tightened, the veins in his temple pulsing. It was a humiliation. He slammed his fist on the desk, the impact reverberating through the room.

“Mei-Ling!” he yelled.

Mei-Ling rushed into the office, her face pale. “Yes, sir?”

Zhang’s voice trembled a bit. “The account. The one no one was supposed to know about. It’s been emptied. How is that possible?”

Mei-Ling hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “We... we’re still investigating, sir. The hack was flawless. There’s no trail, no fingerprints. Whoever did this had resources and expertise beyond anything we’ve seen before.”

He shot her a glare that could cut glass. “And yet, you still can’t tell me who did it?”

She bowed her head. “No, sir. Not yet.”

Before Zhang could respond, Lin burst into the room, holding a tablet. “Sir, there’s more. The deals—our bribes, threats, everything—it’s all public now.”

He handed the tablet to Zhang, whose eyes scanned the headlines:

“MANDARIN INTERNATIONAL EXPOSED: SECRET DEALS, BRIBES, AND THREATS ROCK GLOBAL POLITICS.”

“CORRUPTION UNVEILED: SHANGHAI’S MASTERMIND UNDER FIRE.”

“IS THIS THE END OF ZHANG WEI?”

Each article was more damning than the last, detailing every bribe, every coerced official, every shadowy deal. Photographs, recordings, and documents were plastered across every major news outlet. Governments were scrambling to distance themselves, and Mandarin International’s name had become synonymous with scandal.

Zhang’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the tablet. "ARGGG!!" He threw the tablet across the room, where it shattered against the wall.

His face was flushed, his eyes wild with fury. Mei-Ling and Lin exchanged terrified looks. In all the years they had worked for the Mandarin, they had never seen him this angry.

The Mandarin’s paranoia was at an all-time high. He doubled his security detail and tripled it in some areas, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. And he was right.

It began as he left his Shanghai headquarters late at night, accompanied by four armed guards. The elevator descended smoothly, the hum of its mechanics filling the silence. But as the doors opened to the underground parking garage, chaos erupted.

A hail of bullets tore through the air, taking out two of his guards instantly. Zhang dove behind a concrete pillar, his instincts as sharp as ever. His remaining guards returned fire, but the assailants were skilled, coordinated, and relentless.

“Sir, stay down!” Lin shouted through his earpiece.

Zhang peeked around the pillar, catching a glimpse of the attackers. They were clad in black tactical gear, their faces obscured by masks. These weren’t amateurs—they were professionals, and their target was clear.

He gritted his teeth, adrenaline surging through his veins. “Mei-Ling, what’s happening?”

Her voice crackled through the comms. “Sir, we’re under attack at multiple locations! This isn’t just here—it’s coordinated. We’ve identified some of the attackers as the assassins we hired.”

Zhang’s eyes narrowed. His own mercenaries turned against him.

The parking garage echoed with the sounds of gunfire and shouting. One by one, his guards fell, leaving him alone.

"C'mon out, Mandy," One of the assassins called out mockingly. "We don't have all day."

Zhang, the leader of the Ten Rings, didn't become the leader and built an empire that big just like that. It's been years since he was forced to fight on the frontlines, but when it came to life-or-death situations, he was a one-man army. Be it twenty or a hundred armed men, no one could touch him. The old feeling of rush and the smell of blood awakened the beast within him. He was the Mandarin, the leader of the ten rings, and this was his domain.

The Ten Rings on his fingers glinted in the darkness as he stepped out from his hiding spot, his face as calm as still water. "So, you've come to kill me?"

"Oh, so you're finally out." The assassin in front, who seemed to be the leader, grinned. "To answer your question, yes, we've come to kill you."

"How much are they paying you? And who wants my head?" He asked with a mocking smile.

"What makes you think someone hired us?" The leader retorted. "You're a criminal and a tyrant, Zhang Wei, and the world will be better off without you."

The Mandarin chuckled, "Oh please, stop the hypocrisy. All of us here are killers. So, since I've no way of defending myself you are going to kill me... I think I at least deserve to know the name of the person who put the bounty on my head?"

A voice came from the comms the assassin leader was wearing, "Victor Von Doom."

"You're right," The leader replied. "We're all killers. Well, since this is your final moment, I'll indulge you with the name of your executioner. Victor von Doom. 1 billion dollars for your head. So, nothing personal. It's just money."

The voice spoke again through the comms, "2 billion dollars transferred to your account. White money, tax pain. Enjoy."

The Mandarin smirked. He knew exactly who that was. "Hahahahaha..." He laughed, his voice echoing throughout the parking lot, "Is that so? Good. You've done me a favor, my friend."

The assassin looked at Zhang in confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

Everything before Zhang stood still as if stopped in time as he expanded the Ten Rings on his hand. They glowed brightly as the air around him started crackling with electricity. A blast of lightning tore the twenty-man assault team into shreds, leaving nothing but ashes behind.

Zhang Wei grinned as he looked at the pile of ashes that used to be his enemies. He then turned towards the security cameras, looking at them dead in the eye, "I'm coming for you next, Victor."

....

[Stark Mansion]

Tony sat in his lab with a satisfied smile. He had almost forgotten about Victor Von Doom. Luckily, Victor's name came when he was going through the old records that he copied from Reed's lab before his death. There was a mention of a collab between the two.

"Fight and kill each other," He smirked. 'Maybe I should pin Reed's death on his head too... Oh, this will be fun.'