The workshop was alive with light. Holograms sprawled across the air, outlines of a half-built suit spinning under Stark's gestures. Microdrones scuttled across the table, welding seams finer than a human hand could manage. The arc reactor in his chest thrummed, steady and perfected, a heart he had designed himself.
Pepper stood in the doorway, arms folded, eyes on the bank of screens scrolling with newsfeeds. "They're calling again," she said, tight. "State Department. Defense. The UN. Pick a name, Tony — they all want a piece of you."
"Let 'em leave a message," Stark muttered, flicking a palm and watching a gauntlet snap into place on the wireframe. "Tell them Stark Industries isn't a vending machine."
"I told them you said they could go fuck themselves, your words, not mine." Pepper shot back, already plenty fed up with the constant pressure bearing down on them. Especially her, since Tony didn't seem to care all that much.
She honestly wished she could be as carefree as he was, but she just couldn't… which is why she spoke on Tony's behalf when dealing with them, that way she could tell them what she really felt.
"That's fine too, really, don't they have better things to do? Like, make America better or something?" Tony said with a hint of irritation in his tone.
Pepper understood it, because she felt the same. Having returned from Albion, a place where the government's sole task was the betterment of the nation and the lives of its people… the rest of the world seemed so cold.
The world was still struggling to recover from the 2008 financial crisis. Yet, rather than do anything more to help or to ensure it couldn't and wouldn't happen again, the politicians seemed far more absorbed in gaining more power.
Tony had long since gotten JARVIS to help dig up dirt on everyone trying to force him to give up his tech. Pepper, too, had seen much of it.
And what she saw was horrifying.
Then again, it hardly should have surprised her that those kinds of people who seemed to suck the lifeblood out of the nation to fill their own pockets would be in leagues with real, honest to god vampires.
It was no real surprise that those in power knew about the dark side of the world, knowing the secrets kept from the masses to avoid panic and unrest.
What she couldn't accept was what they used that knowledge for.
They didn't really try to defeat them, or something like that, nope, instead the elite protected vampires and whatnot. Worked with them, all to get eternal life and power.
It was disgusting.
Tony watched the holo-gauntlet finish its seams, watched the welds bloom perfect as if the metal itself obeyed his will. He should have felt pride. Instead he felt the tug of every phone call and every trembling bureaucrat who'd begged him to be their deus ex machina.
All of them claimed that if he just gave them his technology, they could protect the world.
But he knew it wasn't that simple, not that easy. He had gone down that path once more, making the greatest of weapons, arming the military, all so they could use those weapons for good.
And what had the result been?
He had almost been killed by one of his own weapons; he had seen those weapons kill the very people they were meant to protect.
He had realized that those people just couldn't be trusted, that few people could really be trusted to hold power, and not misuse it.
That was why he had to use it himself, why he couldn't allow anyone else to have his suit, because the world was already chaotic enough without a bunch of idiots getting their hands on suits like his.
He still remembered that Russian guy who attacked him at the Stark Expo, someone who had managed to make an arc reactor and had instantly gone mad with power.
That was one person enough; people couldn't be trusted to be given such power, because with his suit, no military could really do much. He knew well that his current suit could likely attack any location in America, and he could leave as he pleased.
Only weapons of mass destruction could threaten him, and those weren't something used easily, so no, he wasn't about to hand his suit over to anyone.
Tony leaned back in his chair, letting the hologram cycle through the suit's combat subroutines. He didn't need to see them; every line of code was already burned into his brain. What he needed was a reason to keep going.
Pepper stepped further into the workshop, her voice quieter now. "You're not wrong, Tony. But you can't fight the whole world alone. Sooner or later, they'll come for you—and if they don't get the tech, they'll come for you personally."
"Yeah, well, let 'em try," Tony muttered. He tapped the reactor in his chest. "I've got insurance."
The lights in the workshop flickered, just for a moment. A feed cut across the main holo-display—one Tony hadn't authorized.
"JARVIS?" Tony asked sharply.
"Apologies, sir," the AI replied. "But Director Fury is… insistent."
And then Nick Fury's face filled the screen, half in shadow, one eye burning with the same kind of authority that made politicians shake in their shoes.
"Stark," Fury said, his voice gravel and iron. "We need to talk."
Tony scowled. "Cute trick, breaking into my workshop. If this is about more weapons contracts—"
"It's not." Fury's tone left no room for sarcasm. "We lost the Tesseract. An intruder came through a portal, walked out with Richards, Grimm, and Barton under his control. He's working for someone bigger—someone who thinks Earth is already theirs."
Tony's smirk faltered. "Reed Richards? You're telling me Mr. Fantastic is now Mr. Puppet?"
"That's exactly what I'm telling you. That alien now holds one of Earth's greatest minds, and an artifact that can level cities. Open the news, and you will see what I'm talking about. I will send someone to get you."
"Calm down, Fury, I haven't agreed to help you yet." Tony quickly raised a hand.
Fury didn't soften. "This isn't just an alien terrorist, Stark. It's a fanatic with a god complex, and he's got the Cube. If we don't act, the next crater isn't going to be some backwoods lab—it's going to be a city."
Tony leaned back, arms crossed. "I still don't know what this cube or Tesseract or whatever is, or why it's my problem."
Fury's gaze sharpened. "It's old, something your father fished out of the sea, it used to belong to Hydra, and before that… Odin, so it's important."
Then mention of his father did make Tony pay more attention, and the dropping of Odin's name made him take things more seriously.
"Fine, send me what you have, and if it is as bad as you say, I will fix this mess for you." Tony finally agreed.
Fury's expression didn't change, but his voice lowered a register, the way it always did when he was done playing. "Good. Because if you don't, Stark, there won't be much of a world left to argue about."
The feed cut without ceremony, leaving only the faint glow of the unfinished suit in the air.
"Jarvis!"
"At once, sir!" JARVIS's voice came through, and a projector fired up, showing live TV and what seemed to be a breaking news segment about a massive explosion and earthquake.
Pepper couldn't help but gasp at the sheer scale of devastation.
The screen showed grainy aerial footage from a news chopper straining against turbulence. Below, a scar of earth yawned across Montana's wilderness — a crater still bleeding smoke and fire into the sky. Whole sections of forest had been flattened outward as if by a giant's hand.
Tony frowned, jaw tightening. "That… is not a lab accident."
Pepper hugged her arms to her chest, her face pale in the flickering light. "God, Tony… that's what Fury meant, isn't it? That's what he was warning about."
"Looks like," Tony muttered. His mind was already turning faster than his tongue could keep up with.
Pepper tore her gaze from the devastation on-screen to look at him directly. "Tell me you're not still thinking of saying yes."
Tony didn't answer right away. His eyes stayed fixed on the crater, the smoke rising from it like a wound in the earth. For a moment, the workshop felt cold despite the hum of the arc reactor.
"This isn't something I can sit out, Pep. They clearly have no control of the situation, and if we do nothing… well, let's just say I would not want to see that future."
Pepper's lips pressed tight, "Surely Arthuria can deal with this, right? This is too dangerous, this isn't terrorist Tony, it's aliens and worse!"
Tony rubbed at his temple, the light of the holo-feed painting his face in cold blue. "Arthuria's not a firefighter, Pep. Camelot doesn't scramble jets when someone drops a nuke in Montana. She might help if we can't, but if we don't even try, why should she help us? After everything America has done against her… she has every right to turn a blind eye to the situation."
Pepper flinched at that, because he was right. Washington had done everything it could to undermine Arthuria since Albion rose, sanction after sanction, whisper campaign after whisper campaign. Camelot had stood regardless.
"So what then?" she asked, almost pleading. "You just throw yourself into this and hope the suit holds?"
Tony pushed up from the chair, pacing across the workshop floor. His reflection chased him in the chrome finish of the drones, in the faint glow of the reactor in his chest. "Hope's a terrible plan, Pep. I'll build better. I always build better." He gestured sharply at the hologram of the gauntlet.
Pepper followed him with her eyes, torn between admiration and dread. "And if Fury drags you into something you can't build your way out of?"
Tony stopped at the bench, bracing his palms against the metal. For a moment, the cocky façade slipped, replaced by the weight he never admitted aloud. "Then I'll improvise."
Pepper's throat tightened, but she didn't argue. She had seen too much of what he was capable of to doubt his brilliance. None had expected him to escape his kidnapping, but he did, by building a suit of armor. When pushed, he pushed right back.
On the holo-screen, the news anchor's voice droned on: "…officials have not confirmed whether this was an accident, a terrorist strike, or an act of war. The white house has declined to comment."
Tony flicked the feed away with a snap of his fingers, replacing it with Howard Stark's old files. Hydra insignias, sketches of cosmic energy patterns, and a younger Howard's tight handwriting scrawled across yellowing paper. At the center of it all, the same cube Fury had just named—the Tesseract—drawn like it was both a prize and a curse.
Tony stared at it for a long moment, then muttered, "All right, Dad. Let's see what you dragged out of the sea and dumped in my lap."
Pepper's voice came soft from behind him. "Just don't forget you're not alone this time, Tony. If Fury really is putting a team together… let them be a team. Don't try to carry this like you carried everything else."
Tony didn't look back, but his voice softened just a fraction. "No promises, Pep. But I'll try."
(End of chapter)
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