Chapter 8: The Science Bros and a Stark Encounter
[SYSTEM MESSAGE: CURRENT TP: 400. SKILL: ENHANCED SUPER-SPEED (50-100 MPH), LIGHTNING CONTROL (MINOR). INVENTORY: MARK II BOOT REPULSOR (PROTOTYPE), BOX OF INTERDIMENSIONAL DONUTS (EMPTY).]
The thought of approaching Tony Stark filled me with a nervous excitement that bordered on sheer terror. This wasn't Thor, exiled and humbled, contemplating the existential dread of losing his power. This was Tony Stark, at the height of his egomania and paranoia, a man who built suits of armor in a cave with a box of scraps, surrounded by layers of cutting-edge security, satellite surveillance, and a sardonic AI named JARVIS who probably had a better sense of humor than most humans. My meta-knowledge told me this was 2011, probably just after Iron Man 2, meaning he was still dealing with palladium poisoning (though he'd likely found a solution by now, knowing him), and a general distrust of everyone not named Pepper Potts or Rhodey. He was sharp, suspicious, and incredibly dangerous when provoked.
"Okay, Adam, this isn't a coffee shop date. This is a high-stakes, low-probability infiltration. Don't try to charm him with Pop-Tarts. He probably has a gourmet chef and a personal nutritionist. You need to hit him where it hurts: his insatiable scientific curiosity and his ego. Mostly his ego. And you need to do it without getting vaporized. Or worse, having JARVIS analyze your entire life history down to your most embarrassing childhood memories. No pressure."
My plan was simple, yet audacious: get on JARVIS's radar, but in a way that screamed "intriguing anomaly" rather than "hostile intruder." I couldn't just portal into his living room. That would end with me being vaporized, or, worse, subjected to a lecture about proper guest etiquette and the prohibitive cost of cleaning up interdimensional residue from his designer rugs. I needed to be a puzzle he wanted to solve, not a problem he wanted to eradicate.
I spent a day in National City, holed up in my apartment, doing some intensive "research." Not in a library this time, but by accessing various public networks and satellite feeds using my slightly enhanced (via the adaptable body's general improvements) processing speed. I focused on Stark Industries' public-facing infrastructure, specifically looking for digital blind spots or neglected access points. Tony was a genius, but even geniuses sometimes left old, deprecated systems running.
I found it: a rarely used, highly encrypted, but ultimately unmonitored back-channel on a satellite uplink that Stark Industries used for remote data transfers to a defunct R&D facility in Nevada. It was a digital ghost, a relic from an older system that JARVIS probably kept running out of sheer intellectual curiosity, but wasn't actively flagged for intrusion. Perfect. It was a subtle crack in his digital fortress, just wide enough for a whisper.
Back in my apartment, I set up my laptop. I wasn't a master hacker – not yet, anyway – but I knew enough about network architecture and data packets to craft a very specific, very subtle digital signature. I created a small, encrypted data burst, containing a single, innocuous phrase designed to be utterly irresistible to Tony's genius mind and JARVIS's analytical algorithms: "Anomalous energy signature detected. Source: Multiversal. Inquiry: Arc Reactor efficiency optimization. Theoretical application for next-generation clean energy grid integration. See attached preliminary data packet." The "preliminary data packet" was a simple, carefully crafted mathematical sequence that hinted at revolutionary physics without giving away the entire farm. It was a digital tantalizer.
"Okay, JARVIS, catch that. It's like leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for a very smart, very suspicious robot. And if this doesn't get Tony's attention, nothing will. Except maybe a giant donut with a flashing neon sign that says 'FREE BILLIONAIRE PLAYBOY PHILANTHROPIST INSIGHTS HERE.' But that felt a little too on-the-nose."
I then used my Portal Creation ability to briefly open a tiny, almost invisible portal, not to a specific location, but to a point in the upper atmosphere, just long enough to send the data burst through a unique, unidentifiable energy signature. It was a digital breadcrumb, laced with just enough cosmic weirdness to make JARVIS sit up and take notice, and then compel Tony to investigate personally. It was an invitation, disguised as an inexplicable event.
The next morning, I was back in National City, trying to enjoy a perfectly normal cup of coffee and pretend to be a normal human, when my cheap burner phone vibrated. An anonymous text message, devoid of emojis or pleasantries: "Uninvited guest. Malibu. 20:00. Don't be late. Come alone. And try not to bring any sentient toaster ovens."
"Oh, he's good. Very good. And punctual. And funny, even when he's threatening. I like that in a potential cosmic business partner. He probably spent all night trying to trace that data burst, then realized it led nowhere conventional. Gotta respect the dedication."
That evening, I portaled directly to a secluded, rocky cove near Tony's Malibu mansion. The ocean air was crisp, and the waves crashed against the shore with a rhythmic roar, a surprisingly calming sound before what I knew would be a chaotic encounter. The mansion itself, a beacon of modern architecture, gleamed against the twilight sky, its lights spilling onto the manicured lawns.
I used my enhanced speed to scale the cliffs, moving with practiced ease, my feet finding purchase on every handhold. I found a hidden vantage point overlooking the mansion's private beach, concealed by dense foliage. I waited. Precisely at 8:00 PM, a familiar figure in a sleek, red and gold suit descended from the mansion, landing softly on the sand, not a grain of sand disturbed. Tony Stark, in his Mark IV Iron Man armor, repulsors glowing with controlled power. He looked exactly like the action figure I owned. Surreal.
"Alright, Adam. Showtime. Don't get vaporized. And try not to drool. He's a genius, but he's still just a guy in a fancy suit. A very, very expensive fancy suit. And he's probably got enough firepower to level a small country. So, no sudden movements. And definitely no mentioning his dad issues. Not yet, anyway."
I dropped down from the cliff, landing lightly on the sand a few yards away, raising a small puff of dust. Tony immediately spun, his repulsors flaring, targeting me with pinpoint accuracy. The suit's internal targeting system probably already had my exact dimensions and velocity calculated.
"JARVIS detected an anomaly," Tony's voice, slightly distorted by the suit's speakers, boomed, devoid of any warmth. "A digital ghost. A whisper of something... impossible. And then, you. Appearing out of nowhere. So, who are you, phantom, and what do you want? And don't tell me you're selling extended car warranties, because I've already got twenty."
I raised my hands in a placating gesture, a casual, almost bored expression on my face. "Relax, Tin Man. No need for the light show. The neighbors might talk. I'm Adam. And I'm not a ghost. Just a guy with a unique travel itinerary and a penchant for showing up unannounced. And I want to talk business. And no, I'm not selling warranties. Unless it's a warranty against galactic destruction. Then maybe."
Tony's helmet tilted, a red glow from the eyes indicating intense scanning. "Business? You break into my highly secure network, appear out of thin air on my private beach, and you want to talk business? You got a permit for that, pal? A cosmic business license? Because last I checked, teleportation and digital ghosting are not standard operating procedures for consultants."
"Permits are for people who follow rules," I quipped, a slight smirk playing on my lips. "And rules, my friend, are for people who don't have access to interdimensional travel. Besides, I didn't 'break in.' I left a calling card. For JARVIS. Because I knew he'd appreciate the intellectual challenge. And you, Tony, I knew you'd appreciate the mystery. You can't resist a puzzle, can you?"
"JARVIS?" Tony repeated, his voice laced with suspicion, the targeting reticles in his helmet probably going wild. "You know my AI's name? And you think you're clever, leaving breadcrumbs. Who are you, really? And how did you do that?"
"I told you, Adam," I said, taking a step closer, my adaptable body feeling perfectly comfortable under his intense scrutiny. "And I know a lot of things. More than you can imagine. Things that could save you a lot of headaches. Things that could revolutionize your work. Things that could, say, make your Arc Reactor even more efficient. More stable. More… miniature. The kind of miniature that could power, oh, I don't know, an entire city block with a device the size of a teacup."
Tony froze. The repulsors dimmed slightly, his focus narrowing. The energy readings from his suit probably went from "threat assessment" to "unidentified, potentially revolutionary energy signature." "Arc Reactor efficiency optimization? You're the one who sent that data burst. The calculations were… impossible. Theoretically impossible."
"Guilty as charged," I confirmed, a smug grin. "I dabble. In advanced theoretical physics. And practical applications. From a… unique vantage point. Let's just say, I've seen some things. Things that haven't happened yet. Or things that are happening in... other places. Places you wouldn't believe existed unless you saw them with your own eyes. Or, you know, had a really good quantum theory textbook." I let the hint of "other places" hang in the air, watching his reaction, the gears visibly turning in his mind.
He was quiet for a moment, processing. His genius brain was likely running a million simulations, trying to reconcile my impossible appearance with the undeniable truth of the data I'd sent. "Other places? You mean like, Earth-2? Or Asgard? Fury's been going on about aliens. Are you an alien? Because you don't look like any alien I've ever processed through the system. And believe me, I've seen some weird ones."
"Closer to the former, but a bit more expansive," I said vaguely, allowing just enough ambiguity to keep him guessing. "Let's just say, the universe is a lot bigger, and weirder, than you think. And I'm here to bridge some gaps. For a price, of course. I'm a broker, not a charity. And my rates are quite reasonable, considering I deal in the impossible."
"A broker," Tony mused, his voice losing some of its aggression, replaced by a dangerous, almost hungry curiosity. "And what's your merchandise, broker? Future stock tips? Alien tech? The secret to perfect hair? Because Rhodey could use some help with his receding hairline."
"All of the above, potentially," I said, a genuine smile now, enjoying the banter. "But for you, Tony, I have something specific. Something that will blow your mind. A blueprint for a next-generation Arc Reactor core. More stable, more powerful, and significantly smaller than anything you've conceived. It's gleaned from… a very advanced future. Or a very advanced parallel reality. Take your pick. It's what you were working towards, only, you know, without all the trial and error. Consider it a cosmic cheat code for renewable energy."
I brought up my holographic interface, selecting the "Blueprint: Stable Miniature Arc Reactor Core (Next Generation)" from my inventory. It shimmered, a complex schematic of glowing lines and intricate components, hovering in the air between us. It was a masterpiece of theoretical engineering, a distillation of countless hours of future research. I projected it in the air between us, visible only to Tony, a masterpiece of theoretical engineering.
Tony's helmet retracted with a hiss, revealing his face. His eyes, usually filled with sardonic amusement, were wide with genuine awe, a flicker of pure, unadulterated genius burning within them. He stared at the blueprint, his genius mind already racing, dissecting, understanding every intricate detail, every theoretical leap. His lips moved silently, mouthing calculations.
"Impossible," he whispered, reaching out a gloved hand as if to touch the projection, then stopping himself. "This… this is beyond anything I've seen. The energy density, the containment field, the isotopic stability… it's elegant. Revolutionary. It solves problems I haven't even finished defining yet."
"Told ya," I said, letting the blueprint hover, allowing him to absorb its complexity. "Now, for the trade. I'm not asking for your firstborn, or even your entire fortune. I want something small. A token. A piece of your genius. Something that represents the earliest iterations of your brilliance. Specifically, one of your Mark II boot repulsors. The prototype. The one that still has a little bit of your original, messy genius in it. The one you probably threw in a box somewhere because you thought it was obsolete."
Tony looked from the blueprint to me, then to his suit. He was clearly torn. The blueprint was a game-changer, a leap forward for all of humanity, a legacy-defining piece of technology. The repulsor was a minor component, easily replaced. The value proposition was ridiculously skewed in his favor, yet my request was so odd, so specific.
"You want a boot repulsor?" he asked, a hint of his usual sarcasm returning, quickly masking his awe. "You gonna try to fly, broker? Because trust me, it's harder than it looks. And you look like you'd trip over your own feet trying to put on roller skates. You also don't look like you have the appropriate… thrust-to-weight ratio for sustained flight. No offense."
"Just collecting souvenirs," I lied smoothly, shrugging. "And maybe, just maybe, I like the aesthetic. Besides, it's a piece of history. The beginning of something truly great. A symbol of the man who built a suit in a cave with a box of scraps. What do you say, Tony? Deal? It's a bargain, really. Think of the intellectual property you're getting."
He stared at the blueprint for another long moment, his gaze unblinking, committing every detail to memory. Then, a slow, predatory grin spread across his face, a glimmer of his shrewd business acumen returning. "You're either the craziest son of a bitch I've ever met, or the most brilliant. Or both. And I have to admit, you've got my attention, broker. Alright, Adam. You got yourself a deal. But don't think for a second this means we're friends. You're an unregistered asset. And I'm going to be watching you. Every move. Every portal. Every weird snack you bring from another dimension. Don't think for a second I won't have JARVIS on your case."
"Wouldn't have it any other way, Tony," I said, my own grin matching his, enjoying the challenge. "Just try not to get too jealous when my version of the Arc Reactor powers my coffee machine. And remember, I brought you the future. You owe me one. Or a thousand."
[SYSTEM MESSAGE: FIRST TRADE INITIATED! CHARACTER: TONY STARK. ITEM OFFERED: BLUEPRINT: STABLE MINIATURE ARC REACTOR CORE (NEXT GENERATION). ITEM REQUESTED: MARK II BOOT REPULSOR (PROTOTYPE).]
[SYSTEM MESSAGE: TRADE ACCEPTED! TP EARNED: 300.]
[SYSTEM MESSAGE: SKILL ACQUIRED: ADVANCED MARKSMANSHIP (FIREARMS & REPULSORS). ENHANCED ACCURACY, UNDERSTANDING OF BALLISTIC TRAJECTORIES, AND INTUITIVE MASTERY OVER RANGED WEAPONRY, INCLUDING ENERGY-BASED SYSTEMS LIKE REPULSORS. CAN BE UPGRADED WITH TP OR THROUGH FURTHER TRADES.]
Tony unlatched a boot repulsor from his suit, the small, intricate device detaching with a soft hiss and a faint glow. He tossed it to me. I caught it easily, feeling the cool, smooth metal in my hand. It hummed faintly with residual energy, a testament to its advanced engineering. It felt incredibly solid, a piece of cinematic history in my hand.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Tony," I said, pocketing the repulsor with a flourish. I then dispelled the holographic blueprint, leaving him with only the memory of its complexity, burned into his genius mind.
"The pleasure was all mine, broker," Tony replied, his eyes still narrowed in a mixture of suspicion and fascination, already mentally dissecting the blueprint. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a sudden urge to revolutionize clean energy. And figure out how you did that. JARVIS, initiate full spectrum analysis of our recent 'anomaly.' And order me a pizza. A really big one. I think I just earned it."
I gave him a two-finger salute, then opened a small portal behind me and stepped through, disappearing as quickly as I had arrived, leaving him alone on the beach, staring at the empty air, undoubtedly already running diagnostics on his network, trying to trace the impossible.
"Okay, Adam. That was intense. But successful. I've got Advanced Marksmanship now. So I can probably hit a bullseye with a paper airplane. And I just gave Tony Stark a massive head start on clean energy. You're welcome, future. You're very welcome. And I got a souvenir. A very cool, very expensive souvenir."
My TP balance was now at 500. Things were looking up. I had a base in the Arrowverse, a connection to Team Flash, a new (and grudging) ally in the MCU, and a growing arsenal of skills. The multiverse was slowly but surely becoming my playground. The groundwork was laid. The next step: bridging the gap, subtly at first, then directly.