Pietro felt his eyes burn.
He had once believed Homelander was nothing more than a narcissist—a walking publicity stunt wrapped in a flag.
But now?
He felt ashamed of himself.
This—this was what a real hero looked like.
"Ding! Special Popularity Points +10,000 (from Pietro Maximoff)."
Pietro stared straight into Antony's eyes and spoke with absolute conviction.
"I swear it. I'll bring Wanda back. I'll bring her home."
….
In truth, Antony had his own calculations.
Vought's research into Compound V–derived enhancements had already hit a bottleneck.
Dr. Conners was a genius, sure—but Vought was a responsible corporation. Public opinion mattered. There were ethical red lines they couldn't cross, not the way HYDRA did with its no-holds-barred human experimentation.
Which was why the next-generation T-VEX had stalled.
If he couldn't run the experiments…
Why not outsource them?
No R&D costs.
No moral backlash.
No public responsibility.
Let HYDRA burn their hands on it.
And when they finally produced something usable?
He'd swoop in with "justice," seize the results, and wipe them out in one clean move.
Fame and profit.
A perfect double win.
I should have Skynet reroute more T-850 units to Sokovia, Antony mused.
Have Rumlow fast-track those shipments.
The thought put him in a great mood.
He turned, preparing to leave.
"Go," Antony said calmly. "I'll be waiting for good news."
Then—
"Uh… boss?"
Pietro's weak voice came from behind him.
Antony turned back. "What now?"
Pietro lay there like a pile of laundry, limbs limp, eyes barely moving.
"I… I don't think I'm going anywhere today."
His face twisted with embarrassment. He looked like he was on the verge of tears.
"The T-VEX… wore off."
"I'm currently… functionally paralyzed."
"Except my mouth."
"..."
Antony stared at the human noodle in front of him, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"You were sprinting across the Atlantic ten minutes ago," Antony said dryly.
"That was when the drug was still kicking in!" Pietro wailed.
"Right now I'm useless. I can't even pee without assistance!"
"..."
Antony inhaled slowly, suppressing the urge to throw him back into the ocean as shark bait.
"Fine."
He grabbed Pietro by the back of his suit and lifted him like a sack of potatoes.
"Back to base."
"HYDRA can wait a couple of days."
"Hey—HEY—boss! Easy! You're choking me!" Pietro flailed weakly.
"Can we switch positions? Bridal carry maybe?!"
"I'm a global icon! If fans see me dangling like roadkill, my image is ruined!"
"Say one more word," Antony said flatly,
"and I drop you."
Pietro shut up instantly.
In a flash of red-and-blue light, Antony carried him back toward New York.
-----
At the V.G.D. Base, Antony landed directly on the medical center balcony and dumped Pietro onto a stretcher.
"Give him glucose. Or electrolytes. Or whatever you use to revive idiots," Antony said, dusting off his hands.
He glanced at Pietro with open disdain.
"Such a hassle."
"Th-thanks, boss… love you, boss…" Pietro croaked, weakly forming a heart with his fingers.
Antony ignored him, turned around, and headed for the elevator.
He needed sleep.
These past few days of nonstop acting were mentally exhausting.
-----
Avengers Tower, New York
Inside Stark's holographic laboratory, the temperature was set to a comfortable twenty-two degrees Celsius.
Bruce Banner still felt overheated.
He loosened his collar and rubbed his perpetually tired eyes.
Before him, a massive blue hologram rotated slowly—an intricate system labeled:
VERONICA
"The numbers don't work, Tony," Bruce said, voice strained as his fingers danced across the virtual keyboard.
"This suppression field—if it's meant for the Hulk, it's still not enough."
Tony Stark leaned casually against a workbench, sipping a glass of chlorophyll juice.
His palladium poisoning was long cured, but some habits stuck.
Like drinking things that tasted like lawn clippings.
"Not enough?" Tony raised an eyebrow.
"Bruce, that's Stark Industries' top-tier containment field. On paper, it can restrain a horny Godzilla."
"Maybe you're stressed. Yoga class? Meditation?"
"Or should we find your green alter ego a therapist?"
"This isn't a joke, Tony."
Bruce pulled up another model—this one extrapolated from the T-VEX sample Tony had obtained.
"Look at the metabolic spike," Bruce said grimly.
"This is a simulation of Hulk cells exposed to T-VEX. Microgram-level contact boosts activity by three hundred percent."
"Isn't that… good?" Tony said, pulling out a bag of dried blueberries.
"Stronger. Faster. Greener."
"And we have Homelander," he added casually.
"If Hulk loses control, I doubt it's a problem Antony can't handle."
"It's not that simple," Bruce said, shaking his head.
"This compound isn't just an enhancer. It's an extremely aggressive biological catalyst."
"In normal humans, it multiplies strength twenty to fifty times."
"But if…"
Bruce swallowed.
"…if it interacts with gamma radiation. If Hulk is injected—"
The simulation spiked violently, the curve smashing through its limits and turning blood-red.
"It won't be twenty times, Tony. It'll be exponential."
"One hundred times?" Bruce's voice trembled.
"That's just the baseline."
"Hulk's rage would amplify infinitely. His reason would burn away completely."
Tony whistled softly.
"A hundred Hulks does sound… inconvenient."
"Then he wouldn't be Hulk anymore," Bruce said quietly.
"He'd be a walking gamma storm."
"One punch might not crack the planet—but the shockwave could flatten Manhattan."
"Even Homelander couldn't stop him."
"And even if he did win," Bruce said, eyes filled with dread,
"the planet wouldn't survive the fight."
Tony finally set the blueberries down.
"So… end-of-the-world scenario?"
Bruce forced a bitter smile.
"I've already considered exiling myself into deep space."
"VERONICA would be paper in front of that thing."
"All right," Tony snapped, clapping his hands.
"No cosmic self-exile, Doctor Banner."
"Anti-Hulk Armor 2.0—no. Ultimate Edition."
"We'll need stronger alloys. Maybe I can borrow some vibranium."
"Antony has… connections."
Just then, JARVIS spoke up, his voice polite as ever.
"Sir. Apologies for interrupting your apocalypse symposium."
"But you have a visitor downstairs requesting entry."
--------------
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