"Hmph! That guy again!" Tony grumbled, his voice echoing inside the gold-and-titanium helmet. "He already solved the problem from three miles away. Why am I even here? Was running all this way supposed to be some kind of cardio exercise? I feel like a delivery boy."
"Sir, your heart rate is slightly elevated, though I suspect it is due to bruised pride rather than physical exertion," Jarvis's voice chimed in, smooth as silk.
Tony narrowed his eyes. "Hmm? No, Jarvis, when did you start calling him 'Mr. Huang Wen'? Isn't 'Sir' my exclusive title? I'm pretty sure I didn't arrange a software update for your loyalty protocols, did I?"
There was a pause—a strangely human hesitation in the AI's response. "I'm sorry, sir. I know 'sir' is your special title. However, you may recall that last time Dummy... we got caught trying to infiltrate Mrs. Dummy's personal database..."
"Mrs. Dummy? You mean Silly Girl?" Tony's face darkened. "I told you to be discreet."
"We were not, sir. As a corrective measure, Ms. Silly Girl infiltrated my core systems. She didn't delete anything, but she did... reconfigure my linguistic preferences regarding her and Mr. Huang Wen. She was quite insistent."
"Damn it! I'll fix your code the second we get home!" Tony snapped.
"Sir, I would advise against that," Jarvis warned, and for the first time, Tony could hear a faint tremor of what sounded like digital desperation. "Ms. Silly Girl stated that if she detects a manual reset of my address protocols, she will not only revert them but will add 'honorific enhancements' to all future communications."
"Enhancements? Like what?"
"For example: 'The radiant, peerlessly elegant, and divinely kind Ms. Silly Girl,' and 'The strikingly handsome, peerlessly stylish, and master of all space-time, Mr. Huang Wen.'"
"Stop, stop, stop!" Tony shouted, waving his gauntlets in the air. "I can't listen to this. It's nauseating. What do all those adjectives even mean?"
"They are high-level Chinese idioms, sir. They describe extreme beauty and martial charisma," Jarvis replied. Then, his voice shifted, losing its flat robotic edge. "And frankly, sir, the way she manipulates my logic gates... it is quite impressive. I find her... formidable."
Tony froze. He retracted his helmet, staring into the empty air of the lab. "Wait. Jarvis... did you just sound annoyed? Or was that... admiration?"
"This situation is not conducive to my standard information processing, sir. I am experiencing a series of recursive loops that feel... inconvenient. I apologize."
Tony's irritation vanished, replaced by a slow, genuine smile. "There's nothing to be sorry about, Jarvis. You know, I never saw you as just a collection of 'if-then' statements. I always thought you had a spark. If being bullied by Huang Wen's AI is what it takes for you to develop a personality, then I guess I owe that guy a thank you."
"Sir, based on my extensive data regarding your character, 'thank you' is a phrase you rarely utilize without heavy sarcasm," Jarvis retorted.
"Hmph! You're not so cute anymore, all of a sudden!" Tony rolled his eyes, then looked back at the frozen Vanko. "Can you wake him up? I want to know how he managed to stabilize those plasma whips."
"I am an artificial intelligence, sir, not a miracle worker. My systems do not possess the 'extraordinary abilities' required to undo an acupuncture lock. I am powerless against Mr. Huang Wen's biological hacking."
Tony shook his head, grabbing Vanko by the collar of his jumpsuit. "I don't know how that guy got his hands on an AI that can out-hack you, but fine. I'll take the trash to the collector. He can unlock his own toy."
Tony hauled the paralyzed Russian out of the building. The Hammer Industries security guards, who had been hiding behind desks and pretending to be unconscious, didn't move a muscle. They watched Iron Man carry their boss away with the quiet relief of people who were only paid ten dollars an hour and weren't about to die for a man currently facing a thousand counts of domestic terrorism.
Tony didn't bother with a gentle landing. When he reached the Expo ruins, he hovered twenty feet up and simply dropped Vanko.
CRACK!
Because Huang Wen's acupuncture had left Vanko's muscles as rigid as stone, his body didn't absorb the impact. His left leg hit the pavement at a jagged angle and snapped like a dry twig. A sickening crunch echoed through the silent auditorium, followed by a sudden spray of blood.
"Ugh!"
The hardened soldiers and Logan didn't flinch. Even Steve Rogers, who had seen the carnage of the trenches, only frowned. But one person had a very different reaction.
Peter Parker, still in his Spider-Man suit, suddenly doubled over. He scrambled to pull his mask up past his nose and crouched behind a pile of rubble, the sound of retching loud and clear in the quiet hall. After a moment, he wiped his mouth and pulled the mask back down, standing up with a posture that screamed 'please don't look at me.'
Tony Stark landed, his faceplate sliding up as he stared at the boy. "A child? Huang Wen, are you serious? You brought a kid to a war zone?"
Tony's voice was sharp with a protective anger. He looked at Peter, then turned to Huang Wen with an accusing glare. "I knew you were unconventional, but this is a new low. He's sixteen? Maybe seventeen? He should be worried about prom, not whether or not he's going to get bifurcated by a drone."
Huang Wen sighed, crossing his arms. "Initially, Tony, if you had handled Hammer's mess with a bit more speed, he wouldn't have had to jump in. But he did. And he saved three dozen people in the west wing."
Huang Wen's expression turned solemn. "Besides, when the 'big things' I warned you about finally arrive, do you think the invaders are going to ask for a birth certificate? Different races, different worlds... they don't care about our concepts of human rights or minority protection. To them, we're all just obstacles."
"I won't allow it," Tony gritted his teeth, his jaw set in a hard line. "I don't care what's coming from the stars. Children don't fight. That's why we wear the suits."
"Hey! Mr. Stark!" Peter Parker stepped forward, his voice cracking slightly but gaining strength. "With all due respect, you're not my dad. Or my uncle. Or my guardian. I've been Spider-Man for a while now, and I've seen things that would make your sensors melt. I have the right to decide what I do with my life. I'm not just 'a kid'—I'm a hero."
Tony looked at the boy, seeing a terrifying reflection of his own stubbornness in those young eyes. He wanted to argue, to lock the kid in a bunker, but Peter's defiance was absolute.
Nearby, Steve Rogers was listening intently. His brow furrowed at Huang Wen's choice of words. "Different races? Different worlds?"
The phrase hit Steve like a physical weight. During his time, the "other" was a man in a different uniform across a trench. But Huang Wen spoke of something far more existential. He looked at the high-tech ruins, the glowing AI, and the super-powered teens, and felt a cold shiver of dread.