"Sir, there's an intruder."
Jarvis's voice sounded distant and distorted, as if it were filtering through layers of thick glass. The warning barely penetrated the haze of alcohol and despair that had become Tony Stark's constant companion. His head felt like it was being split open with an axe, each pulse of pain synchronized with the relentless rhythm of the arc reactor in his chest.
Tony reached up instinctively to clutch his throbbing skull, but his hand met only cold metal. The sharp clang reminded him that he was still wearing his armor—had been wearing it for... how long now? Days? The boundaries between sleeping and waking had become increasingly blurred.
As awareness slowly returned, Tony became acutely aware of his bladder's urgent demands. Without thinking, he simply released the pressure where he stood, letting the waste flow through the armor's internal systems. The relief was immediate and somehow clarifying, as if the physical release had also cleared some of the mental fog.
"Peeing directly in the armor? How disgusting!"
The unfamiliar voice cut through Tony's momentary relief like a blade. He jerked upright, his sudden movement sending several bottles of expensive liquor crashing to the floor. The sound of breaking glass echoed through the workshop, but Tony paid no attention to the destruction. His eyes were fixed on the figure seated casually in his chair.
The intruder wore a form-fitting black base accented with white geometric patterns that formed an abstract spider design across the torso. The design was stark and intimidating, with black chains wrapped around the arms. The overall effect was far more menacing than the red and blue costume Tony remembered from his previous encounters with Spider-Man.
"Spider-Boy?" Tony mumbled, his alcohol-impaired mind struggling to process what he was seeing. He started to raise his hand to rub his eyes, but the metallic scraping sound reminded him again of his armored state. "When did you change your outfit?"
Tony's question revealed just how disconnected he had become from the outside world. In his self-imposed isolation, he had missed the emergence of the second Spider-themed vigilante entirely. The distinction between Spider-Man and the individual known as "Prime" was lost on him in his current state.
"Actually, I'm curious," Ben said, his tone carrying genuine interest mixed with subtle mockery. "How exactly do you handle urination while wearing that armor? I mean, you're obviously wearing clothes underneath the suit."
Ben leaned forward slightly, his posture relaxed but attentive. "Do you just... let it go and soak your legs? Or do you have some kind of catheter system built into the front of the armor? I'm genuinely fascinated by the engineering implications."
Tony's face darkened at the invasive question. The last thing he wanted to discuss with an uninvited guest was his personal hygiene arrangements. He turned his anger toward his AI assistant instead.
"Jarvis!" he barked. "Why did you let this guy in here?!"
"Sir, I did warn you about the intruder," Jarvis replied with his characteristic calm. "He managed to penetrate my security systems through what appears to be a sophisticated hacking attack. I attempted to alert you multiple times, but your response was... limited."
He stared at the young man in the chair, his mind racing despite the alcohol. "If I remember correctly, you should be about sixteen years old?"
The statement carried multiple implications. On one level, it was an expression of amazement at Ben's apparent technical skills. On another, it was a subtle threat—a reminder that Tony had access to information about Ben's identity and background.
"I must clarify, sir," Jarvis interjected, "that this individual is not the same person as Spider-Man. Based on my analysis, this is the vigilante known as 'Prime.' Furthermore, there is an 80% probability that his true identity is Ben Parker."
Despite Tony's recent isolation, Jarvis had continued monitoring external events and gathering intelligence. The AI had been investigating both Spider-themed vigilantes since their first appearances, and the connection between Peter Parker and Ben Parker had been relatively straightforward to establish through data analysis and pattern recognition.
Ben showed no emotional reaction to having his identity revealed. In fact, he seemed almost pleased by Jarvis's deductive capabilities. The truth was that the "Prime" persona had always been intended as a temporary cover, designed primarily to protect the secret of the Omnitrix while allowing him to operate in situations where Spider-Man's presence might raise uncomfortable questions.
"Your artificial intelligence is remarkable," Ben said, reaching up to pull back his hood and reveal his face. "I only appeared in public once, and you still managed to identify me."
"Twice, actually, sir," Jarvis corrected. "A month ago, you appeared alongside Spider-Man in a different uniform. The individual who rescued Senator Caldwell's daughter was not Spider-Man, but you operating under the Prime identity."
"You tracked that as well," Ben said with genuine admiration. "I'm impressed. Most human investigators would have missed that connection entirely."
Tony found himself lost in the exchange between Ben and his AI, but he grasped the essential point: Ben was most likely not an enemy. Tony had conducted some research into Peter Parker before his condition had deteriorated, and the young Spider-Man had demonstrated a consistent pattern of heroic behavior. If Ben was indeed Peter's cousin, it was reasonable to assume he shared similar moral principles.
Of course, the fact that Ben had broken into Tony's private laboratory without permission and immediately began mocking his bathroom arrangements suggested a rather casual attitude toward social conventions. Tony remained cautious about Ben's ultimate intentions.
"How did you break through my firewall?" Tony asked, moving to his wine cabinet and retrieving a bottle of expensive scotch. He tossed it toward Ben as a gesture of grudging hospitality. "Want a drink?"
Ben pushed the bottle away without interest. "Jarvis's security protocols are extremely sophisticated. It took considerable effort to penetrate them, and the system regained full control almost immediately after my intrusion."
The explanation was technically accurate, though it omitted the crucial detail that Ben had transformed into Upgrade to interface directly with Stark's computer systems. Working in conjunction with Eunice, his AI assistant, Ben had been able to bypass the security measures through methods that no conventional hacker could replicate.
"So I'm really that good!" Tony said with a mixture of pride and provocation, taking a long drink from his bottle. "But you're not bad either. Just a little worse than me, of course."
Tony's ego remained intact despite his physical deterioration. There were exactly two things in the world that Tony Stark would never admit: that someone else was better than him at anything, and that he was inferior to his father in any way.
"So you went to all this trouble to hack into my system," Tony continued, waving his hand dismissively. "What exactly do you want? Looking for a job? Fine, I'll pay you... five million per year. Report to Human Resources."
He gestured toward the door, clearly expecting Ben to leave and handle the employment paperwork through normal channels.
But Ben remained seated, settling back into the chair with obvious comfort. "Tony Stark, I'm here to negotiate terms with you. Actually, to make a deal."
Tony frowned, his business instincts automatically engaging despite his impaired state. "Five million isn't enough? You're a little greedy, kid. Fine, ten million."
"Sir," Jarvis interjected helpfully, "I believe Mr. Parker is unlikely to be impressed by ten million dollars. According to public records, Mr. Parker is the Ceo and founder of Primus Technologies."
The name hit Tony like a physical blow, cutting through his alcoholic haze with startling clarity. Primus Technologies was the company behind the self-healing serum that had revolutionized emergency medicine. Before his descent into despair, Tony had actually researched the serum as a potential solution to his palladium poisoning problem.
The surgical removal of the shrapnel in his chest had always been theoretically possible, but the risks had been prohibitive. However, with the advent of the self-healing serum, such an operation would become much safer. The enhanced healing factor could address complications that would normally prove fatal.
Tony had ultimately rejected the idea, but not for medical reasons. The problem was that the serum was being marketed by Osborn Industries, and Tony's hatred of Norman Osborn ran deeper than his fear of death. Using Osborn's technology would be tantamount to admitting that Stark Industries was inferior to its rival—a humiliation that Tony had been unwilling to accept.
But now, faced with the actual inventor of the serum, Tony found his perspective shifting. His condition had deteriorated significantly since those earlier considerations, and death was no longer a distant possibility but an imminent reality. In such circumstances, pride became a luxury he could no longer afford.
More importantly, if Ben was offering to help voluntarily, Tony could accept the assistance without it being seen as a defeat. If the other party was coming to him, asking for his help, then any exchange would be between equals rather than a desperate plea for salvation.
"What do you want from me, kid?" Tony asked, his tone carefully crafted to project casual interest rather than desperate need.
In this moment, Tony was like a genie emerging from a magic lamp—clearly possessing desires and needs, but maintaining the pretense of being the one granting favors rather than seeking them.
Ben smiled at the transparent performance. "Look at you, Tony Stark. The famous genius, reduced to this pathetic state. How much longer can you keep up this self-destructive behavior? How much life do you really have left?"
"What do you mean?" Tony's voice carried a dangerous edge, though his defensive posture betrayed his anxiety.
"Don't play dumb with me," Ben said, rising from the chair and approaching the armored figure. "Anyone with half a brain can see that you're dying. The palladium in your arc reactor is a double-edged sword, isn't it? You need it to power the electromagnet that keeps the shrapnel from reaching your heart, but at the same time, it's slowly poisoning your entire system."
Ben reached out and tapped the glowing reactor in Tony's chest with his index finger. The casual gesture was both intimate and threatening, a reminder of just how vulnerable Tony had become.
"You came here to discuss that exact problem," Ben continued. "I know you're interested in a solution, and I happen to have one."
Tony's expression grew serious as the implications sank in.
"What do you want?" Tony asked bluntly, abandoning his earlier pretense of casual interest.
If this was indeed a negotiation, then both parties had something the other needed. Tony was prepared to pay a substantial price for his life, but he needed to understand what Ben was asking for in return.
"A small favor," Ben said, his tone deceptively casual. "Something that should be easy for someone of your capabilities."
Ben paused, seemingly considering his words carefully. "I know you don't like Osborn Industries, and I know you have reservations about our self-healing serum. So I won't insult your intelligence by suggesting you use it."
Tony was surprised by Ben's consideration, though he realized it made perfect sense. If the solution involved simply purchasing the serum, there would be no need for this elaborate negotiation. Ben clearly had something else in mind.
"What is it, then?" Tony asked, his curiosity now genuinely piqued.
"A new element"