'Arthur had been right from the beginning… nanotechnology wasn't just the future, it was the present. I only needed a push.' Tony thought as he stepped into his workshop.
The gleam in Stark's eyes was unmistakable. All his exhaustion seemed to vanish; in its place there was only excitement. Tonight, he wouldn't just tweak his current armor — he was about to start an entirely new series.
"JARVIS, did you record all the information?"
[Yes, sir. Everything has been imported into the Mark Armors database.]
"Great. But let's be clear. We're not just doing a conventional upgrade. I want to integrate what we tested in the lab — the dynamic flow of nanomachines and the instant replacement of materials."
[Sir, all we have on nanomachines is basic information. I recommend conducting more tests before implementing them into an armor.]
"I know that, JARVIS. My plan is to add small sections to the armor that can be modified through nanomachines."
[Understood, sir. Would you like me to create a new file?]
Tony leaned back in his chair, thoughtful, before flashing a confident grin.
"Yes. Create a new directory. Project name: MARK X."
[Confirmed. Creating folder 'MARK X'.]
"Import all the files Arthur gave us and organize them as reference. From now on, we're rewriting every system — power, impact dispersion, adaptive shielding. Everything will align with our nanotech experience."
The clock advanced quickly, but Tony didn't care. The night had become his ally. With the keyboard before him, he began sketching out designs, replacing traditional metal alloys with nanocarbon composites, simulating self-regenerating layers, and designing a "field reconstruction" protocol, exactly as he and Arthur had debated earlier.
Hours passed. When the first light of dawn appeared, Tony finally stepped back and took a deep breath.
"JARVIS, finalize the initial prototype. This will be the Mark X1. Keep the classic color scheme."
[Understood, sir. File saved. Mark X1 ready for production.]
Tony smiled in satisfaction, stretching his weary body. "This… is a game-changer. This series will redefine the concept of armor. Arthur and I have truly opened a door that can never be closed."
[When would you like to begin production of the Mark X1, sir?]
"When?" Tony scratched his chin, studying the glowing holograms before him. "Have a test version ready by this afternoon. I want to see what this beauty can do outside the drawing board."
[Perfectly, sir.]
Exhausted, but in creative ecstasy, Tony stood and made his way to the bedroom. Pepper had left only a loving note on the nightstand, asking him to rest. He collapsed onto the bed, still thinking of lines of code, nanocarbon particles, and the improvements already dancing in his mind.
He didn't know it yet, but the Mark X, born of that sleepless night, would be the beginning of an even greater chapter.
---
Xavier Institute
Jean had arrived early this morning at Xavier's Institute to teach her classes.
Professor X had finally accepted that Jean's "friend" was a man.
Well… at least he thought he had accepted it.
After all, to him, "friend" was a harmless word, something simple, ordinary, and not worth worrying about. But when Professor Xavier decided to pull Jean aside for a quick talk — just to make sure everything was fine — the revelation she gave him nearly sent him straight to the infirmary.
---
"So… this friend of yours…" the professor began diplomatically, wearing that patient smile of someone already preparing for any possible answer. "He seems to be quite present in your routine lately, isn't he?"
Jean chuckled lightly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Present? Professor, he's not just a friend… he's my boyfriend."
Xavier went silent for a few seconds, his gaze fixed on her, but his mind blank. If he had a frail heart, he would surely already be looking for a defibrillator.
"B-boyfriend?" he stammered, trying to keep his composure. "Right… of course… that… is… acceptable…"
Jean, as if it were nothing important, added with an almost cruel calm:
"Actually, he's also my future husband."
The silence in the room was so heavy that even the distant sound of a student sneezing in the hallway echoed like an explosion.
Xavier blinked several times, adjusted his collar, and cleared his throat, as if reorganizing not just his thoughts, but his blood pressure as well.
"Jean… you could have started with that part…" he said in a tone that mixed exasperation with a hint of resigned humor.
Jean simply smiled, satisfied, while he thought that, if Xavier had hair, it would probably all have turned white at that very moment.
---
Jean, having just finished her class at the Xavier Institute, walked calmly down the long main corridor. The school's atmosphere was serene, with a few students still chatting in scattered groups across classrooms, but silence prevailed on the floor. That was when she noticed a familiar figure appearing at the other end of the hallway: Logan.
"Logan, where have you been?" she asked, raising her brows slightly, surprised to see him back after being gone for so many days.
With his usual straightforwardness, Logan answered bluntly, his deep voice echoing:
"I've been with the Brotherhood of Mutants. Went to see how things were on their side."
He spoke briefly, without many details. According to him, there wasn't much to do — just serve as an intermediary, keeping a minimal bridge of contact between the X-Men and the Brotherhood. But this time, there was something more. Logan stepped closer to Jean, eyes narrowed as if weighing each word.
"I came back with the intention of bringing Colossus with me."
Jean blinked, surprised by his choice. "Introduce them…?" she repeated, trying to grasp what that could mean.
The idea seemed simple, but Jean knew Colossus had a firm temper, and if he was placed face-to-face with some members of the Brotherhood, the chance of conflict was real. Her expression grew worried. "I just hope this doesn't end in a fight…" she murmured, more to herself than to Logan.
After parting ways with Jean, Logan strode toward Professor Xavier's office. Upon entering, he found him in his classic calm posture, seated in his wheelchair, hands folded on his lap. Logan explained the plan, but Charles didn't share the same optimism.
"Logan, take two more people with you," Xavier said, his tone serious.
"I have the feeling something big is about to happen. And if we're prepared, we mutants might even benefit from it."
Logan, though always skeptical of everything and everyone, usually didn't doubt Charles' intuition. He let out a sigh and crossed his arms.
"Alright, Charles… call the X-Men. I'll do the heavy lifting with you."
"Good." Xavier replied with a slight nod.
Minutes later, a meeting was called. One by one, the X-Men began entering the office. Jean, by habit, was invited too, but she chose to remain outside.
"I can listen from here," she said with a calm smile.
Xavier nodded. He knew Jean could not only listen, but also sense the flow of the meeting, maybe even provide valuable insights if something escaped the others.
And so, inside that office, a meeting with the potential to forever change the future of mutants began.
---
Meanwhile, in a bustling corner of New York, ordinary life went on.
On a busy street, Gwen fired a web with precision, pinning a thief against the brick wall of an old building. The man struggled in vain while she recovered the stolen bag.
"Stealing is wrong, you know?" Gwen said, with that mix of reproach and mild irony she often used in such situations. She opened the bag to check. "Let's see if there's anything here that proves who the owner is."
Quickly, she found a business card. Reading it aloud, she raised an eyebrow:
"Maxwell Dillon… Hmm, not a bad name."
At that moment, a nervous man came running around the corner, sweaty and out of breath. Seeing the scene — Spider-Woman holding his bag and the thief restrained — he understood immediately.
"Hey, Spider-Woman! Thank you! If I had lost that briefcase, I'd be fired today."
His relief was palpable. Inside that bag was something that apparently meant his job. Gwen smiled under the mask, handing it back.
"You're welcome. It's my duty to help New York citizens. Just… be more careful next time, alright?"
"You got it!" the man said, almost emotional.
She swung another web and leapt away, leaving him with a warning:
"Looks like it's going to rain soon. Better find shelter."
The small crowd that had gathered soon dispersed, but the man — Max Dillon — remained standing for a few seconds, absorbing the surreal nature of the encounter. He was just a nobody, and yet he'd been helped by the heroine he admired so much.
"I can't believe this happened to me…" he murmured, enchanted.
His daydream was interrupted when the phone inside the briefcase rang. He answered quickly. On the other end, his boss was already yelling.
"Max! What are you doing? We've got clients complaining! Fix the temporary circuit now or you're fired!"
"Sir, I was robbed… But Spider-Woman got my bag back, I—"
"Have you lost your mind, Max? Spider-Woman helping you? Don't make up stupid excuses. Fix it now!"
Max swallowed hard. "Understood, sir. I'm on my way."
He rushed out, hailing a cab. Soon he arrived at the maintenance site: a factory with old, dangerous wiring. He looked at the frayed cables and muttered to himself:
"Just connect this wire, and everything goes back to normal."
Climbing a ladder, tools in hand, he worked carefully. He was an experienced electrician, but the pressure of anxious eyes around him didn't help.
Then the first raindrop fell. Seconds later, a flash lit up the sky. Thunder roared deafeningly.
A lightning bolt struck the site.
The impact hurled Max to the ground. His body lay motionless, scorched, surrounded by sparks. The others fled in panic. Police, firefighters, the electric company were called — but no one dared approach to see if he was still breathing.
None of them noticed the tiny sparks dancing at Max's fingertips.
Half an hour later, firefighters arrived. They found only an empty spot: Max's body had vanished.
"He probably regained consciousness and went to the hospital on his own," said one of the veteran firefighters.
And so the case was hastily closed.
But in a muddy alley, Max was waking up, dazed, with flashes of confusion in his mind. He remembered only climbing the ladder and then… darkness.
"I… I need to fix those wires, or I'll be fired…" he mumbled, staggering.
Then he leaned over a puddle of water and saw his reflection. His face was blue. Electrical currents coursed across his skin like snakes of light.
A horrified scream echoed through the alley, blending with the sound of the rain.
---
(End of Chapter)
The Fate arc has already started, it will soon arrive here on the WN.
"Hmph. If you really want to be useful, then entertain me, try to throw those pathetic power stones at me. Let's see if even your insolence can amuse a king."