VCM Ivan leaned against the control panel, a smirk playing on his lips.
"So, it's you, White Queen."
Emma Frost's expression remained poised, though a flicker of surprise crossed her icy blue eyes.
"You know me."
"Of course I do. Hammer's excitement during our conversation wasn't as high as I expected. That was odd, so I had to dig deeper and figure out why." Ivan's voice carried a tinge of amusement as he tapped his fingers against the console.
"And that's why you hacked into Hammer Industries' core database to get our information?" she asked, her tone even but probing.
Ivan scoffed.
"Core database? Please. Hammer's so-called security systems are a joke. Their software is nothing but glorified scrap code." His confidence was evident, his voice dripping with disdain.
He knew his abilities rivaled even Stark's, and the ease with which he manipulated Hammer's networks only solidified his superiority.
Few could challenge the top-tier hackers of the world, but Ivan?
He could toy with their systems like a child playing with blocks.
"That being said," he added, turning to face her with an uncharacteristic seriousness,
"I do respect your research. Your work has groundbreaking implications."
Emma's lips curled into a knowing smile.
While Ivan had a formidable mind in physics and electronics, his understanding of biotech wasn't quite as sharp.
He hadn't realized the deeper layers of the genetic engineering involved in certain mutant experiments.
That suited her just fine—it saved her the trouble of covering her tracks.
"Flattering," she purred.
"But let's talk about something more intriguing—like how you reprogrammed Hammer's knockoff Iron Man drones and quietly seized control over them. That was quite the surprise."
Ivan's expression darkened. "I didn't think your expertise extended beyond biotech."
"What is it you want, Frost?" he asked, his patience thinning.
"Mr. Vanko, I think you already know the answer. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here." She spoke smoothly, her words laced with subtle persuasion.
Ivan wasn't naive.
He knew Emma and her associates wanted Hammer Industries to collapse.
If he unleashed these fake Iron Man suits at the Stark Expo, it would spell disaster for Hammer.
And once that happened, Emma and her allies could move in and seize whatever assets were left in the wreckage.
"So what exactly do you need from me?" he asked, folding his arms.
Emma's gaze remained steady.
"Before you unleash your chaos, I want you to drain every liquid asset Hammer has and transfer it to a secure Swiss bank account. With your skills, bypassing anti-money laundering measures should be child's play."
Ivan blinked, then let out a dry chuckle. "You can't be serious."
Of course, he had ways to launder digital assets, but siphoning an entire corporation's funds undetected?
That was another level.
If he could do that so easily, he wouldn't be wasting time playing cat and mouse with Hammer—he'd be printing money on demand.
"And if I give you the exact locations, accounts, and passwords to Hammer's funds? Would you still think I'm joking?" Emma's expression was unreadable, her confidence unwavering.
Ivan's amusement flickered into curiosity. "How the hell did you pull that off?"
Emma merely smiled, offering no further explanation.
After a moment of silence, Ivan exhaled sharply. "Fine. I'll do it."
He had only one goal—to destroy Tony Stark.
If this plan helped him get there, then Hammer and his empire were just collateral damage.
"And once this is over," Emma added, her voice laced with something deeper, "erase all traces of us from Hammer's systems. For security reasons."
A faint shimmer of psychic energy wove through her words.
Ivan's gaze momentarily glazed over before sharpening once more.
"Of course."
True mind control wasn't about turning someone into a mindless puppet.
It was about subtlety—nudging their decisions so they believed they were acting of their own free will.
Meanwhile, at one of Tony Stark's private villas, Nick Fury stood across from Tony, arms crossed.
"Your father had a vision, Stark. He believed only his son had the intelligence and resources to complete it."
Tony scoffed, swirling a drink in his hand. "Yeah, well, I think we both know he wasn't talking about me."
Fury raised a brow. "And what kind of man do you think your father was?"
Tony's smirk faded.
"Cold. Calculating. He never said he loved me, never said he even liked me. You really think a guy like that would trust me with his life's work?" Bitterness laced his words, old wounds resurfacing.
"The happiest day of his life was probably when he shipped me off to boarding school."
Fury, unfazed, simply snapped his fingers.
"Maybe I know your father better than you do." He placed a box on the table and turned to leave. "You'll want to watch what's in there."
Tony watched him go, then glanced at the box. Coulson, standing nearby, didn't break his gaze.
"Can I at least go out for a burger?" Tony asked, feigning nonchalance.
Coulson didn't blink.
"Director Fury told me to make sure you stay put. Communications are blocked until you finish your work. And if you try to leave, I'll have you unconscious on the floor before you take two steps."
Tony sighed dramatically but didn't argue. Instead, he grabbed the box and headed down to his lab.
"Technology can change everything..." Howard Stark's recorded voice echoed in the lab as Tony flipped through his father's old notes.
He skimmed through blueprints and formulas, half-listening to the video projection.
"Tony, you're still too young to understand all of this, so I'm leaving this message for you," Howard continued. "Everything I've built, all my knowledge... It's all for you."
Tony's eyes narrowed as Howard gestured to a cityscape model behind him.
"One day, you'll see that these advancements aren't just scientific breakthroughs—they're my legacy. I was limited by the technology of my time, but you, Tony... you have the potential to go further than I ever could. The future belongs to you."
And then, just before the recording ended, Howard's voice softened.
"But above all that, remember this: My greatest creation... was you."
For a moment, Tony just stared, his breath caught in his throat.
The resentment he had carried for years, the anger and hurt, all melted away in an instant.
His father had believed in him all along.
His vision blurred slightly, and he exhaled a shaky breath.
...
"Ladies and gentlemen, for years, our country has sent brave soldiers into battle, but then Iron Man appeared. We thought we had a new way to fight wars, but he refused to share his technology. It's unfair!"
The long-anticipated Stark Expo was in full swing, and at the center of attention stood Justin Hammer, hyping up his audience.
After plotting against Tony Stark and successfully hacking his systems, Hammer was finally unveiling his big product—dozens of knockoff Iron Man drones.
"Oh!!!"
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the audience. Hammer smirked. This was exactly the reaction he wanted.
He wasn't just here to showcase his so-called breakthrough.
He was here to prove to the world that Stark Industries wasn't the only player in the game.
With Tony out of the arms business, Hammer Industries was stepping in to fill the void.
In his mind, he could already see his company's stocks skyrocketing in the next few hours.
But as Hammer stood there basking in his supposed triumph, he had no idea that someone was watching everything unfold through a hacked security feed.
Ivan Vanko.
Sitting in a dimly lit room filled with monitors and wires, Ivan cracked a wicked grin. He had completely taken over Hammer's internal network.
Security guards who had noticed the breach lay unconscious on the floor. He wiped some blood off his knuckles and dialed a number.
Tony Stark's number.
At that moment, Tony was riding high on success.
Using his father's research, he had discovered a new element, something revolutionary.
In typical Tony Stark fashion, he had turned half his house into a construction site and built a hadron collider in his own basement.
Now, he was running tests, eager to see how well this new element powered his Arc Reactor.
As he worked, a familiar voice interrupted him.
"You sure know how to make a mess," said Phil Coulson, stepping into the room.
"It's fine. What's up?" Tony replied without turning around.
"I'm leaving. Fury's assigning me to New Mexico."
"Fantastic, a land of enchantment," Tony quipped, finally glancing at Coulson.
"So I'm told," Phil replied.
"Secret stuff?" Tony asked.
"Something like that. Good luck," Coulson replied, still wearing his iconic smile.
"Bye, thanks."
The two shook hands.
"We need you," Coulson added in a serious tone. Tony looked at Coulson's expression.
"Yeah, more than you know."
With that, Coulson turned around before quipping, "Not that much."
Then he left.
But the moment he was gone, Tony's phone rang.
"Huh, back to having a working phone. Did Coulson unblock me?" Tony muttered, answering the call.
"Coulson? Did you forget something? Or did Fury change his mind again?"
"Tony Stark," came a voice he didn't recognize immediately.
"I took your advice. Doubled the revs. Good tip."
Tony's eyes narrowed. "Ivan Vanko."
He immediately activated a trace on the call, but Ivan was no amateur.
Even for Tony, tracking his location wasn't going to be easy.
"The Stark legacy is about to be rewritten. What your father did to mine all those years ago—I'm paying you back. In just a few minutes."
"You son of a—!" Tony cursed as the call cut off.
He glanced at the screen. The best he could do was narrow the signal down to Manhattan.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the Stark Expo's live stream.
There, on stage, were Hammer's drones and—Rhodey's suit. Modified.
Tony understood immediately.
"Damn it!"
Rushing to suit up, he replaced his Arc Reactor with the new element and took off toward the Expo.
Within minutes, he arrived at the venue, landing in the middle of Hammer's show.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Hammer stammered as Tony walked in.
Tony ignored him, heading straight for Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes.
"Rhodey, we've got a problem."
"Tony, civilians are here. I have orders. No fighting." Roddy eyed him warily, remembering their last confrontation.
"You don't get it. We're all in danger. Those drones—"
Before he could finish, Roddy's suit raised its arm, aiming its weapons at Tony.
"Rhodey?! What the hell?!"
"It's not me! The suit's been hijacked!" Roddy yelled as warning lights flashed across his HUD.
And just like that, the other drones powered up, turning their weapons toward Tony.
"Oh, this is bad," Tony muttered before shooting into the sky.
Gunfire erupted. The Expo's glass dome shattered, and drones soared after him, weapons blazing.
Screams filled the venue.
"Run!"
"Somebody help!"
"Not again!"
Panic spread like wildfire. To the ordinary people below, this was yet another terrifying attack on New York City.
At this time, in an old bookstore hidden away in a quiet corner of New York, a young man lounged lazily on a worn-out leather couch, his eyes fixed on the chaos unfolding on live television.
Beside him, Katie stretched out on the other side of the couch, her head resting on the armrest as she absentmindedly tapped her fingers against the cushion.
Standing behind them, ever composed, was a woman in a crisp maid uniform—Lady Deathstrike.
She stood silently, arms crossed, waiting for orders that likely wouldn't come.
Katie had practically moved in at this point.
Ever since she found out that he had a maid, she somehow convinced Professor X to let her stay under the excuse of 'monitoring an unpredictable mutant ability in an unstructured environment.'
But everyone knew the truth—Katie was nothing if not persistent.
The result?
The bookstore felt less like a refuge and more like a bizarre mix of a safe house and a college dorm.
The maid uniforms became less revealing, which was probably for the best, but strangely enough, Katie's wardrobe had taken a different turn—shorter skirts, lower necklines.
Whether it was intentional or not, he wasn't about to ask.
On the TV, explosions rocked the Stark Expo, and screams filled the broadcast.
"New York's getting more dangerous," Katie remarked, her voice casual, but her gaze sharp as she watched the destruction on the screen.
He sighed, arms resting behind his head. "Yeah. And it's only going to get worse."
His words weren't a guess. They were a fact. A certainty.
Then, his eyes narrowed. "But no matter what happens, even if aliens decide to drop in, I won't let the madness spread here."
Katie turned her head slightly, her lips curling into a small smile. "I believe you, Ethan."
Then, just as easily, she stretched, extending her legs and resting them on his lap. "But before you go saving the world, how about a leg massage?"
Ethan groaned, but there was no real protest. "Fine, fine."
Just as he was about to oblige, his phone rang.
Katie frowned. "Who the hell calls at a time like this?"
Ethan glanced at the screen and let out an exaggerated groan.
"Fury." He practically spat the name. "Damn, this is labour exploitation."
With an eye roll, he answered the call.