"What a convenient ability you have," Whiplash remarked, circling Marcus as he stood clad in his gleaming silver Iron Man armor. Even with his expert eye, he couldn't deny the craftsmanship — the exosuit's design ranked among the finest he had ever seen.
Of course, that was only natural. This was, after all, Tony Stark's masterpiece — recreated with near-perfect precision through Marcus's metallic transformation ability. Every detail, every contour of the armor's structure was replicated from Stark's genius design.
Still, Whiplash couldn't resist pouring cold water on the moment.
"Don't get ahead of yourself. I'm talking about the appearance and structure. Can that thing actually move?"
Marcus hesitated. "Uh…"
He flexed experimentally — and immediately understood what Whiplash meant.
The armor couldn't move properly. Only a handful of systems were functional; the rest were purely cosmetic. The joints locked, the servos refused to respond, and the internal balance felt all wrong.
The reason was simple: while the Arc Reactor in his chest provided energy, the Iron Man armor wasn't made entirely of metal. Roughly eighty percent of it was — but the remaining components relied on non-metallic materials, such as polymer actuators, lubricants, and magnetic insulators. His power could only reproduce metallic parts, leaving the rest incomplete.
It was, frankly, embarrassing.
Whiplash smirked knowingly. "No ionized plasma channels, no magnetic dampeners, no fuel injectors, and no carbonized lubricants. Figures. Your ability only reconstructs the metal components, doesn't it?"
Marcus gave a rueful smile. "You could say that."
Whiplash rubbed his chin. "It's not a big problem. I can fabricate the rest — compact systems, lightweight components. Won't even fill half a briefcase once I'm done."
That worked for Marcus. If his own power couldn't fully replicate Stark's design, then he'd just augment it the old-fashioned way — with technology.
As he waited for Whiplash to assemble the missing pieces, a signal pulsed in his mind — a transmission through the mental network linking him to the infected.
Tony.
Marcus replied instantly: "Tony, what is it?"
Tony: "Just tying up a loose end. You remember that kid who gave you trouble a while back? The one in the red jumpsuit — Peter… uh…"
Marcus: "Peter Parker. I'd almost forgotten. What about him?"
Tony: "Yeah, that's the one. After you almost skewered him, I sent him to my private medical wing for treatment, then transferred him to a public hospital to recover. My assistant just told me the hospital reported him missing."
Marcus: "Missing?"
Tony: "Yeah. And tonight, a few civilians reported seeing a black-suited figure swinging through Manhattan like Tarzan on caffeine. Not sure what's going on — figured I'd give you a heads-up since you've… crossed paths with him."
Marcus: "Appreciate it. That might be more important than it sounds."
The connection faded.
Marcus's eyes narrowed. Black suit… swinging across rooftops? There was only one person who moved like that — Spider-Man. But Peter Parker's signature red-and-blue outfit had apparently turned pitch black, and his sudden disappearance from the hospital wasn't a coincidence.
He wasn't just missing — something had changed him.
"Looks like you're off to play hero again," Whiplash said dryly, handing Marcus a freshly forged black combat jacket made of advanced composite fabric.
Marcus smirked. "Not exactly. Let's just say… something out there's caught my interest."
If his guess was right, tonight he might just come across a very special find — a living entity from beyond the stars. Not as powerful as Loki's scepter, perhaps, but still one of the most fascinating lifeforms in the Marvel universe.
After donning the reinforced black jacket Whiplash had prepared, Marcus finally completed his functional Iron Man-like suit. The integrated thrusters ignited beneath his feet, propelling him skyward through the hole he had blasted earlier with his repulsor cannon.
"Being Iron Man doesn't feel half bad," he murmured, soaring into the night.
High above the city, the darkened sprawl of New York stretched beneath him. Queens was completely blacked out — no lights, no movement, nothing but silence. Even the other boroughs, once vibrant with nightlife, now looked like dim, scattered patches of civilization.
And who could blame them? After the chaos, the explosions, and the government's official excuse of a "nuclear radiation leak," most citizens had fled in panic. Fury had even gone so far as to stage the deception, having radioactive waste dumped in several districts to make the cover story convincing. Anyone who saw that wouldn't hesitate to evacuate.
By tomorrow, the last of the military's evacuation operations would end. The day after that, the final assault would begin.
But Marcus wasn't thinking about armies or strategies now. He had only one goal — to confirm his theory.
He soared higher, activating his sensors. Within the helmet, holographic displays flickered to life, scanning the city grid in real time. Dozens of live camera feeds and motion scans flashed before his eyes — but without an AI like J.A.R.V.I.S., he had to process everything manually.
He grimaced slightly. Whiplash really isn't built for this kind of software work.
Perhaps he'd borrow Tony's genius for that next time.
As that thought crossed his mind, a flare of movement caught his attention. But it wasn't the black-suited Spider-Man.
It was something else — a man wreathed entirely in flame, streaking across the sky like a comet.
Marcus instantly recognized him. Johnny Storm — the Human Torch of the Fantastic Four.
Normally, Johnny never operated alone; he was rarely seen without his team. For him to be flying solo through the darkened city meant something serious was happening.
Marcus decided to find out.
He lowered altitude, angled his thrusters, and glided closer until he was flying parallel to the blazing figure.
"Hey, Fire guy!" he called out, mimicking Tony Stark's confident tone through the voice filter. "What's got you flying around here at this hour?"
Approaching Johnny as "Iron Man" wasn't just harmless fun — it was strategy. If he wanted to get close to Spider-Man without raising suspicion, a familiar face and familiar armor would make the perfect disguise.
_____
T/N:
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