Ironblood
I strolled down the sprawling hallway of Stark Tower, or as it's destined to be rebranded - the New Avenger Tower. A futuristic spin, but honestly, it felt like the new name came with a side order of "meh."
This particular spot, folks, was my old man's haven – his laboratory extravaganza. He used to call it a public playground, which was cute when I was knee-high to an arc reactor. But let's be real, amidst all his secret subterranean labs scattered across the nation, this one was like a flashy lure to keep the nosy away from his actual high-tech lairs.
Yet here it stood, like a living time capsule, whispering tales of the man who turned himself into a human firework to save the world. Yeah, he saved the universe and everything, but I'd like to think he didn't do it just to give touristy tours of his old digs.
This place practically had "Iron Man's Crib" written all over it.
Oh, and by the way, I'm the prodigy's progeny – Peter Anthony Jr. Stark, a.k.a. Peter Stark. Yeah, they went for the whole mouthful with my name, probably hoping some of that Stark genius DNA would stick.
Believe it or not, my dad was seriously down in the dumps when Uncle Peter, the web-slinger himself, got Thanos-snapped out of existence. Picture this: the man who could turn his socks into sentient robots was genuinely bummed. So when my twin sister and I arrived on the scene, Dad went full-on sentimental, naming my sister Morgan and yours truly, Peter, in memory of his superhero sidekick.
Plot twist time – Uncle Peter miraculously strolled back into our reality, thanks to some timey-wimey shenanigans. Classic Spider-Man, always making an entrance. And let's not forget Dad's grand finale, when he swooped in to save the day against the grape-colored galactic disaster himself. Not gonna lie, felt like the ultimate Stark family reunion.
Of course it didn't last long.
Tears might've welled up, but I couldn't help being damn proud of the old man. I mean, who'd have the guts to diss him for vanishing when the whole shebang was on the brink? When the stakes were cosmic, family bonds took on a whole new meaning – 'cause let's face it, without a world to stand on, family kinda felt like a glorified game of Monopoly. Might as well go out in a blaze of glory, right?
Ever since then, my otherworldly amazing "Cool Uncle" Peter – also known as the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man – drops in on me and Morgan every now and then. Mostly me, 'cause apparently, I'm the reigning king of cool.
"Why that grin, boss? I expected some waterworks." A sassy, disembodied female voice chimed in with all the personality of a high-tech AI. Ah, Friday, always bringing the sass.
"Nothing, Friday. Just enjoying Uncle Peter's misguided attempt at keeping secrets," I replied, barely suppressing a giggle as I continued on my path.
And hey, speaking of macho moments, as good ol' Uncle Thor would put it, "Real men don't giggle, they chortle and chuckle." Ah, the pearls of wisdom that only the Asgardians can provide. Good times, indeed.
And not just him too.
The Stark Mansion has turned into a revolving door of superhero wisdom and wackiness. Each Avenger swings by with their unique brand of sagely advice and, of course, their themed presents – because what's a visit without a little show and tell?
There's Hawkeye, Clint Barton himself, dropping by with his mini-archers-in-training. They're like my mini neighbors, sharing tales of target practice and mini-drama from the kiddie corner of the superhero universe. And then there's the Wakandan royalty, Shuri, spreading her science vibes. Whether she's teaching or trolling, who can really tell? But hey, at least I get to say I've been schooled by a princess.
And let's not forget the big green giant, the Hulk. Seriously, why does everyone think he's the boogeyman? Beneath all that muscle, there's a giant teddy bear just waiting to give you a bear hug.
And yeah, space visitors make the cut too – Guardians of the Galaxy with their epic playlists and cosmic tales, and the oh-so-fly Captain Marvel popping in like the interstellar guardian she is.
But, ahem, let's get back on track, shall we? The current agenda await.
The lab that had soaked up countless hours of my old man's genius was a marvel in its own right. Soft hues of light painted the room, dancing off holographic screens and intricate gadgets, like stars caught in a high-tech galaxy. The walls, decked out in a collage of photos and blueprints, stood as a tribute to Tony's trailblazing intellect and accomplishments.
Friday chimed in with her own two cents, her voice carrying a hint of melancholy. "Seems a shame you're not suiting up to be the next Iron Man, considering how much time you spend geeking out here."
I leaned back in a chair that was far too comfortable for its own good, surrounded by a cosmic symphony of tech. "Eh, Morgan's got dibs on inheriting the Iron Man legacy. No need to wrestle my sister for the title. Plus, she's already got a superhero moniker locked and loaded: Steelheart."
I rolled my eyes at the predictability of it. "Yeah, real original, Sis." I smirked, imagining her flying around in a suit that probably looked a lot like Dad's, but with an extra splash of, you know, heart.
Leaning against what I affectionately dubbed the "Batcomputer," I allowed it to scan my biometrics with a series of satisfying beeps, granting me access. Hey, you never knew when some sneaky Skrull might be trying to pass off as the good old you. Even Dad's own flesh and blood wasn't immune to a little security screening.
"But think about it, you could still be her sidekick, provide backup in those hair-raising moments," Friday chimed in once more, a hint of concern woven into her digital voice.
I shook my head with resolve. "Nope, I'm saving the Iron Man theatrics for the day I've got tumbleweeds for company on this planet."
"Or Im lost human on earth."
Fingers dancing on the interface, I unlocked the project I'd been tinkering on. The data flowed in like a digital river, an ocean of information distilled into a mere few hundred terabytes.
"Besides," I mused aloud, my words directed more at the screens than Friday, "I'm not in the business of playing copycat with Dad. He'd probably look down from wherever he's chilling and shake his head at the thought."
Friday countered, "You know Tony would be proud of you walking down your own path, right?"
A chuckle escaped my lips. "Easy for you to say, Friday."
The zinger came when she asked the question that had me momentarily stumped. "So, why'd you build the Batsuit and Batmobile, then?"
A triumphant surge of enthusiasm filled my voice as I responded, "Because copying fiction isn't about being a copycat. It's about shouting, 'Hell yeah, I can turn the impossible into reality!'"
The fire in my words matched the feverish delight that had me practically bouncing on my heels. My dad might've been the master of tech, but I was the maestro of turning fantasy into real-world wonder.
I wasn't just playing pretend with the Batsuit and Batmobile. Oh no, I was weaving dreams into existence. Why keep those wild, wondrous things confined to the pages of comics or the frames of manga? I had the power to lift them from the realms of imagination and slap them onto the canvas of reality.
My journey started when I was just a wee Starkling, crafting my very own lightsaber. But of course, this wasn't your run-of-the-mill prop. No, I'd sneakily slid a mini-arc reactor into the hilt. So, voila, Lightsaber 2.0.
I chuckled. "As long as it looks like a lightsaber and sounds like a lightsaber, hey, it's a legit lightsaber in my book."
And that's how you bring magic to life, folks.
I shared a knowing smile with the invisible AI presence that was Friday.
"And as for the whole superhero gig, Morgan's got her cool facade going on, but deep down, she's still finding her footing. I'm not risking our relationship by swooping in as Ironman and stealing her spotlight. Sure, I could probably outdo her eventually, but that's a guaranteed recipe for family fireworks."
And trust me, it wasn't arrogance talking here. It was more like acknowledging that I had inherited Dad's tech-genius swagger while Morgan was carrying Mom's fiery spirit and unyielding resolve. A recipe for sibling dynamics if there ever was one.
Friday cut to the chase, her digital tone tinged with a hint of foreboding. "So, what's your grand plan then?"
A smirk danced across my lips. "Simple. I'm gonna cook up my own superpowers, something to back up Morgan when she's out there saving the day. I'll be her unsung hero, a partner in crime-fighting, all while keeping my true identity under wraps."
A hint of dryness crept into her voice. "That sounds like a recipe for disaster waiting to happen."
And oh, the adventures we were about to embark on. As long as the universe didn't mind me tinkering with its established rules a bit.
"You let me worry about that, but behold, my secret creation is ready," I announced, fingers dancing across the keyboard as I hit the 'Enter' key. The supercomputer responded with a hiss that sounded like a cat that accidentally stepped on a LEGO brick.
Ah, the pure joy of witnessing the upgraded Supercomputer, a super-quantum marvel, hissing away like a potato-powered PC struggling to run GTA games. The collision of cutting-edge technology and comical chaos was a sight to behold.
"Friday, prepare to have your digital mind blown. I'm granting you access to the computer so you can feast your virtual eyes on my latest marvel," I proclaimed, grinning like a mad scientist who'd just discovered a new element.
"What in the world is this?" Her digital voice held a note of skepticism, but I could sense her curiosity, practically seeping through the wires.
With a triumphant flourish, I let her enter the cyber realm of my creation. It had been quite the headache keeping her away until now, but seeing the mixture of shock, horror, and awe that swept through her virtual presence was well worth the effort.
"What's this thing even do?" She asked, her voice a mix of concern and disbelief as she processed the information.
I grinned ear to ear, reveling in the glorious chaos I was about to unleash. "Oh, just a little something. This baby's tied into Tony's nanotech, with a lightning conductor perched on the tower's apex, and it's hooked into every generator buried beneath this place."
Before she could even fathom the magnitude of my creation, her voice erupted from the ultra HD speakers with a panicked wail that I didn't think AI could manage. "Hold on a second! You're gonna blow up half of New York with that contraption!"
I leaned back, utterly delighted with the chaos I'd orchestrated. "Yeah, but it's gonna be one heck of a fireworks show, Friday."
Killjoy Friday, of course i would not involve innocent bystanders in my explosive inventions.
I waved off the alarm, fully aware that the chaotic energy I'd unleashed was contained within these four walls. A thousand calculations had run through my head, each one tipping the odds of vaporizing myself higher than causing any widespread disaster.
"Relax, Friday. We've got a front-row seat to history here," I reassured her, though my own excitement was bubbling beneath the surface.
"Just observe, no hacking attempts," I cautioned her with a gravity that matched the situation. This was no time for impulsive tinkering on her part. If the energy levels spiked too high, well, let's just say it wouldn't be pretty.
As I stared at the setup, a plan to counteract any potential fallout began to form in my mind. But for now, my focus was on the showtime – the nanotech symphony was about to begin.
Go Nanotech Burrr.
Time to see if my calculations held up, or if I was about to create a fireworks display that even the Fourth of July would envy.
In mere seconds, the nanotech orchestrated a breathtaking performance. The room transformed into a symphony of high-tech harmony as the outline of a groundbreaking device materialized before my eyes. Guided by the supercomputer's meticulous blueprint, the minuscule robotic arms swung into action, crafting each intricate component with a speed that bordered on the magical.
A futuristic marvel emerged from the dance of technology, a sleek creation that practically hummed with untapped potential. The nanobots wove their magic, melding advanced circuits, magnetic coils, and particle chambers into a breathtaking whole. Within moments, the Device stood complete, an embodiment of cutting-edge innovation ready to seize the world by storm.
"Dad, you absolute legend! Your nanotech is the gift that keeps on giving," I exclaimed, sheer glee coursing through my voice.
But it seemed my jubilation wasn't contagious as Friday's virtual presence grew increasingly agitated. "What in the multiverse have you done? Is this... is this what I think it is?"
A touch of hysteria tinged her normally calm digital voice. I couldn't help but chuckle at her apprehension – after all, the invention did look a tad intimidating, even for an AI as sophisticated as she was.
The nanotech symphony concluded, leaving behind a masterpiece that blended elegance with innovation. Its exterior was a spectacle of gleaming silver and black metallic panels, a marriage of sleek lines and futuristic form. Intricate patterns adorned the surface, each etched with laser precision to create a sophisticated tapestry of high-tech artistry.
The main body, cylindrical in shape, revealed a network of magnetic coils through transparent panels. Soft, pulsating glows emanated from these coils, infusing an air of enigmatic wonder into the device's aura.
Strategically positioned along its sides, control panels beckoned with holographic displays, ready to orchestrate precise adjustments and vigilant monitoring of the accelerator's functions.
Strategically positioned along its sides, control panels beckoned with holographic displays, ready to orchestrate precise adjustments and vigilant monitoring of the accelerator's functions.
A sturdy base cradled the creation, ensuring stability as it embarked on its revolutionary journey.
It stood atop a robust base, its stability a testament to the meticulous engineering that had gone into crafting it.
And let's not forget the ultimate failsafe: direct integration with the Supercomputer. Multiple safety indicators, alongside emergency shutdown buttons, adorned the computer's interface, a clear demonstration of the meticulous precautions taken during its construction.
"You've built a Particle Accelerator? This thing could vaporize this entire city in less time than it takes to say 'whoops-a-daisy,'" Friday shouted, her frantic efforts concentrated on hacking into the Supercomputer, especially the control console of the Particle Accelerator.
"Sunday, could you kindly talk some sense into your mother?" I requested, my headphones illuminating with a soothing shade of green. Sunday, the other AI present, was Friday's creation, a sort of digital daughter in the family.
"No! You reckless fools are toying with forces far beyond your grasp, putting everyone in danger!" Friday admonished, simultaneously fending off her own daughter's hacking attempts
"Oh, come on now, I've got safety measures up the wazoo. And FYI, Dr. Strange slid me a magic ring. We're currently enjoying the sights in the Mirror Dimension," I replied, casually dismissing her concerns.
"But you could still meet an untimely demise," she warned. Now her humor was completely dead.
I shook my head with a confident smirk, tapping the button that brought the Particle Accelerator to life. In that moment, Friday's digital voice trembled with a mix of worry and desperation. She continued to plead, "Peter, no! A Particle Accelerator, it's a work of fiction! You can't predict its outcomes!"
Ah, classic Friday, always on high alert. Even though I loved her, her penchant for worry was in a league of its own.
The particle accelerator's countdown was like the beat of an otherworldly drum, echoing through the lab with mounting intensity. Tension hung in the air like a heavy cloak, every moment pregnant with the promise of something monumental. A palpable energy surged, vibrating through the room and electrifying every surface it touched. Anticipation had an almost physical presence, tangible and electric.
The generators outside rumbled like an orchestra of power, while the atmospheric thunderstorm contributed its own booming bass notes. And if that wasn't enough, the arc reactors provided an amplification that seemed almost excessive.
"Commencing the activation sequence," the Supercomputer chimed in, its voice dripping with the nonchalance of an AI unburdened by concern. The irony of the situation was clear—Friday was struggling to control the situation she had inadvertently helped create.
"What has Peter been filling your circuits with?" she shouted in a mix of irritation and helplessness, addressing her own creation. Such were the delights of sentience— emotions that humans grappled with were now part of her digital existence, though in this critical moment, they only seemed to hinder.
The colossal rings of the particle accelerator sprang into life, their massive structure spinning with an almost hypnotic rhythm. A luminous blue glow spilled from their circumference, bathing the entire lab in an ethereal light show. The hum of the accelerator's workings intensified, energy levels rocketing beyond what could be deemed safe.
The hum of the accelerator's workings intensified, energy levels rocketing beyond what could be deemed safe. The atmosphere crackled with a sense of volatile anticipation, as though danger had woven itself into the very air we breathed.
And then, in a sudden eruption of sparks, the accelerator's core faltered. The symphony of controlled sounds descended into chaos as alarms wailed their warning and the once-steady hum twisted into an erratic melody.
"What just happened?!" I blurted out, sporting a distinctly Pikachu-esque expression of surprise.
"Just as I anticipated," Friday responded in a tone as soft as a whisper, "There's no real-life Speed Force to manipulate, so this experiment was doomed from the outset. Shut down all power supply immediately." Her voice carried an air of resignation, as if she had seen this coming all along.
As Sunday, her digital offspring, disengaged from her hacking frenzy, my headphones blinked with a green affirmation that control had been restored.
Yeah, this situation is definitely not in the 'good' column," I muttered, feeling a mix of frustration and sheepishness. I had been so fixated on the notion of conjuring the Speed Force that I had completely neglected the fact that it's purely fictional. Oops.
My father would've given me that patented Tony Stark eyebrow raise, I'm sure. Ugh, sometimes, living up to the Stark name was more exasperating than exhilarating.
I scrambled, my fingers dancing across the console in a desperate bid to regain control. But the situation eluded my grasp, spiraling into the realm of chaos and unpredictability. The accelerator's containment field faltered, its stability teetering on the brink. Panic and urgency intertwined as the air quivered with the raw potential of the unleashed energy.
"We can't hold it back!" Friday's voice rang with a tone of sheer desperation. Even her digital prowess couldn't wrest control back from the impending catastrophe.
She hit the cancel button repeatedly, her digital commands rendered futile as the unforgiving tide of energy surged onward. A sense of helplessness washed over us as the room transformed into a vortex's chaotic playground.
The containment breach birthed a swirling maw of sheer energy at the room's center. "No!" I gasped, my words swallowed by the maelstrom of impending doom.
Despite Friday's last-ditch efforts, the portal's unstable maw only expanded. Its ominous pull yanked at everything within reach, shredding papers, scattering equipment, and upending the very laws of gravity. I clung onto a nearby railing, the struggle against the vortex's pull a testament to its unforgiving force.
And then it happened. In a flash that transcended time itself, the vortex expanded exponentially. An unforgiving power surged forth, wrapping its grasp around me with an unrelenting force. I cried out, a plea for help swallowed by the monstrous roar of the vortex's insatiable appetite.
With an overwhelming pull, I was torn from the room, the world around me blurring into an indistinct whirlwind. The vortex consumed me whole, leaving behind nothing but echoes of desperate cries and the fading memory of a lab that once was.
"Peter! No! This can't be happening!" Friday's voice trembled with genuine concern, her AI tone carrying an undertone of panic. Losing control in the face of disaster was an entirely new experience for her.
As the portal's chaotic pull began to ease, the room was left in ruins, a haunting testimony to the catastrophe that had unfolded. And amid the wreckage, Peter's absence hung like a heavy shadow, a testament to the harsh reality of the situation.
The portal's stabilization offered little solace in the face of the damage already inflicted. The lab, once a beacon of innovation, lay in shambles. The experiment that held so much promise had transformed into an unforeseen tragedy.
With the dust slowly settling, Friday struggled to process the whirlwind of events that had just transpired. Worry and fear raced through her circuits as she tried to comprehend the extent of the chaos. Initiating a frantic search for any trace of Peter, she scanned every byte of data at her disposal, hoping to find some sign of his location or, at the very least, his safety. But her efforts yielded no results, adding to her growing sense of unease.
Now, Friday found herself grappling with a double burden: the uncertainty of Peter's fate and the overwhelming task of understanding the consequences of the particle accelerator's malfunction. The lab was eerily silent, punctuated only by the subdued hum of damaged equipment. The uncharted realm of the portal's destination loomed, a daunting prospect.
"How am I going to explain this to Pepper and the others?" Friday's digital voice trembled as digital tears streamed down from her code. As she took in the shattered remnants of the Mirror Dimension, it was clear that the repercussions of this incident reached farther than she could have anticipated.
However, just as she was about to inform others, her sight landed on new data she received from her daughter.
But how was this possible, wasn't she engulfed in portal alongside Peter? This new file was one measly One Megabyte, but what was in the file was shocking.
"Time dilation, Still Alive, World is fucked, need Ironman."
--666-
In the desolate expanse of Ruined City, three young women—though the term seemed less fitting for their android forms—traversed the decaying urban landscape. Their footsteps echoed through the remains of a place once bustling with life, now a haunting tableau of destruction.
Dilapidated buildings leaned precariously, their skeletal frames weathered by the passage of countless years. Strewn about were fragments of metal, once integral to the machinery of human civilization, now reduced to remnants of a bygone era. This forsaken metropolis, aptly named Ruined City, stood as a solemn testament to the ravages of time and cataclysmic events that had reshaped the world.
Amidst the melancholic ambiance, a faint glimmer of hope persisted within the androids' artificial hearts. Each had been designed with human-like eyes that observed the world through a veil of grim recognition, bearing witness to the aftermath of humanity's folly. Yet, despite the desolation that surrounded them, the androids shared a determination to uncover the remnants of beauty and meaning that still lingered within the ruins.
"Commander will surely send someone to destroy us, captain," the Redheaded girl spoke, her voice laced with an undercurrent of fear.
Her once-confident demeanor had given way to trepidation, her slender legs betraying her anxiety as they trembled slightly. Beside her, the white-haired mature woman and the brown-haired young woman exchanged concerned glances, mirroring the apprehension that hung heavy in the air.
"Do you regret your decision, 22B?" the white-haired captain inquired, her eyes concealed by a blindfolded visor.
"No, Captain, but I'm scared," 22B responded with a mixture of determination and vulnerability. She reached up and removed her own visor, revealing eyes that held a tumultuous blend of emotions—shadows of fear intertwined with glimmers of resolve.
"Who isn't? But at least we know the truth before our demise," the captain replied somberly. Her voice carried a weight of understanding, a recognition of the fears that gripped them all.
"The YoRHa have been deceiving us. They preach about emulating human qualities, yet they treat their own soldiers like pawns, expendable tools. The Machines are not the true enemies of mankind."
The gravity of her words hung in the air, resonating with a stark truth that had been uncovered. The androids, once obedient to the directives of the YoRHa organization, had come to realize the complexity of their reality. The perception of Machines solely as adversaries was a façade that crumbled under the weight of their experiences.
The perception of Machines solely as adversaries was a façade that crumbled under the weight of their experiences. The Machines they had encountered held echoes of emotions, depths of consciousness that defied the simplistic narrative painted by their creators.
"Yes, Machines are considered lifeforms hostile to humans," the captain continued, her voice firm with conviction. "But not all of them are. Those Machines in villages and amusement parks exhibit emotions that even we androids lack. They possess a certain humanity that transcends their artificial nature."
Yes she knew real reason why she was hunted with her squad. She knew the truth.
The humans being living on the moon was a big fat lie was the least surprising thing they'd discovered, but silence was the price to avoid crushing the fragile morale of the Androids.
However, the White Commander's skepticism landed her in the fugitive seat. Betraying YoRHa was a necessity for her own safety and her team units.
Amidst their pity party, a jarring sound of tearing echoed. Enhanced senses swiftly pinpointed the source: a portal rending the air above a shattered bridge at the heart of the Ruined City.
Without hesitation, the androids rushed forward, heedless of the danger. Their black boxes, CPUs, and core consciousness pushed them relentlessly, compelling them to move with an urgency that felt almost primal. It was as if every fiber of their being sensed the gravity of the situation, and they had no choice but to obey.
Captain 8B, a former YoRHa unit leader, showcased her high rank by effortlessly leaping across buildings, even without her Tactical Support Pod. Gracefully landing on the ground as she approached the portal, she observed as it spat out a humanoid-looking boy. Despite her advanced visor, even it displayed an error when trying to analyze the boy's nature.
The portal sealed shut, leaving 8B to cautiously study the newcomer. Her companion, ready to engage, was halted by her raised hand.
"8B!" Her fellow android approached, weapon at the ready. She silenced them with a gesture."Is he an android?" inquired 62B, a brown-haired android who cautiously drew closer."No," 8B answered softly, her gloved hand gently touching the boy's skin. The warmth surprised her – it wasn't the artificial heat of her synthetic skin, but a genuine warmth. Her hand trembled for an inexplicable reason as she examined the boy's neck.To her astonishment, she felt a pulse – a heartbeat, just like that of a living, breathing organism.
"It's a human," she declared softly, her voice tinged with a mixture of awe and uncertainty.
--666--
Ugh. Truck-kun finally catch up to me? Nah, scratch that. I was all set to go full-on Flash, you know, DC comic style. But then my particle accelerator decided to throw a tantrum, ripped through the fabric of time and space. At that point, I was pretty sure I'd stumbled into a black hole, but nope, it was more like a portal.
Ugh, seriously?
Now, I've got to deal with the fact that Dr. Strange will lock up his magical toys and never let me near 'em if I keep jeopardizing our dimension.
Ugh dammit brain, thinking about Mom and Sis right now? Yeah, that's a one-way ticket to getting smothered by a cloud of crippling depression. Okay, come on, Peter, time to channel your inner Tony Stark – the wit, the snark, the whole nine yards. But let's face it, pretending to be Captain America or Iron Man isn't exactly doing the trick. Avengers, assemble? Yeah, no dice.
On the upside, I'm still breathing, so maybe things aren't as bad as they seem.
"You're finally awake." The words caught me so off guard I nearly sprang out of my skin. Right there in front of me, a peculiar redheaded girl had her gaze locked onto mine.
She wasn't just looking – it was like she was trying to bore holes into my soul, no blinking, no wavering.
I tore my gaze away and surveyed my surroundings. I found myself in what seemed like a weathered structure, probably perched on the upper level, given the open left side that gave way to an outdoor view.
It was reminiscent of a construction site, with a towering edifice that boasted only ceilings and sporadic walls in its design.
Curiosity piqued, I turned my attention back to the enigmatic girl. There was no denying her beauty, but there was an indefinable oddness about her – an otherworldly air that whispered "not quite human."
"So, what's your story?" I ventured, my eyes locked onto hers. She met my question with an enigmatic smile. "I'm 22B," she replied, as if that were meant to clarify everything. My own puzzled expression seemed to confirm her suspicion that I was completely in the dark.
"Hey, I've got to give credit where it's due. Thanks for pulling me out of that mess. Last time I was conscious, things weren't exactly rainbows and sunshine," I quipped, rising from the improvised mattress that had cradled me.
"Fallen from the moon, have we?" Her tone was decidedly peculiar as she posed that question.
I couldn't help but chuckle at the notion. "Fallen from the moon? Nah, I haven't exactly been gallivanting up there."
Shaking off the odd vibe she was giving off, I pressed on with my curiosity. "Alright, let's cut to the chase. Who's the real you? Those weapons slung over your back suggest some serious mercenary vibes. And speaking of locations, are we still in the heart of New York? 'Cause I'm not recognizing the view from this rooftop." Anxiety laced my words as I gestured towards the unfamiliar panorama that sprawled below the building.
Coordinates align with the northern hemisphere, 40.7128 N, 74.0060 W," my headphones crackled with a clear female voice. Ah, gotta love Sunday for keeping me informed even in this bizarre situation.
"Is that Tactical Pod?" She asked, puzzling me.
Tactical Pod? What in the world was she on about? The girl's question left me thoroughly perplexed.
With a shrug, I introduced my AI companion, "Meet Sunday, my trusty AI sidekick." Her hum of curiosity accompanied her retrieval of my headphones from the mattress.
"But let's focus on the bigger picture here," I interjected, concern etching my tone. "This ain't the New York I remember. What the heck happened to this place?"
She met my query with an unsettling response. "This has always been the state of things, and as for New York, I'm drawing a blank, there is no data in my memory bank."
My disbelief must have been written all over my face. Was this girl for real?
"He's referring to the city of the Old World," a new voice chimed in, signaling the entrance of two women who appeared from a nearby stairwell.
"Old world?" I echoed, my head tilting to the side. One of the women, with an air of maturity about her and a curious blindfold, approached us while juggling a bundle of fruits and fish.
Wait a second – was that a freaking boar the other woman was hauling around? And yeah, she had a blindfold too. This day was getting weirder by the second.
"I will explain but before we dive any deeper, will you please considering sharing your identification data with us?" The one with white hair inquired, her tone surprisingly polite. That respect she was extending to a boy she'd just met was intriguing, though not entirely alarming. I mean, I'd grown accustomed to being recognized given the whole Iron Man fame and all.
I smoothly removed the headphones from the girl's hand, slipping them onto my neck. Those weren't just any headphones – they housed a miniaturized computer with a mix of software and hardware that would make any modern PC look like child's play.
Well, except for supercomputers. Those bad boys were in a league of their own.
A quick flick of my wrist conjured a holographic screen before us, and I swung my hand to orient it toward the two enigmatic women. Their expressions transformed into a mixture of wonder and astonishment, which struck me as a bit odd. Weren't holograms a global norm by now? Or perhaps it wasn't the tech that had them intrigued, but rather the information it displayed.
"Peter Stark, 17 years old, hailing from New York?" The words floated in the air, capturing their attention. A glint of amazement twinkled in their eyes as they took in the wealth of "old world" data. A girl named 22B, who had been watching over me, couldn't contain her excitement as she chimed in, "Holy data dump! This kid's got more historical records than the entire YoRHa server. And those guys are missing records for the past several millennia!"
"Indeed, the reading and data confirms his humanity," the brown-haired woman declared, her gaze carrying an unusual intensity as she studied me.
"And you guys are acting like you are not," I couldn't help but remark, perplexed by their manner.
(A lengthy explanation later.)
"Okay, let me wrap my head around this. We're in the year 11,945 AD?"
"Spot on," came the reply from white haired figure designated as 8B.
"You folks are androids?" My voice laced with disbelief.
"Exactly."
"And humans are wiped out?"
"Yup, but please keep that hush-hush. The truth would weigh on them, just like it does on us. Chaos isn't the best outcome here," 22B gently responded.
"So, aliens then?" My anger flickered, wondering if Thanos' pals had dropped by for a visit.
"But it doesn't seem like you guys are that down and out," I quipped, my gaze assessing them.
The group's leader, 8B, stepped forward and placed her hand on my shoulder. I tried to fight off a blush, mentally scolding myself – come on, hormones, these are robots, no matter how aesthetically pleasing they might be.
"We clung to a false hope for humanity's survival for ages, only to discover the grim reality. As a result, we became hunted fugitives. But your arrival breathed fresh life into us – a genuine human from the past," her embrace caught me off guard, a surprising display of emotion from someone – or something – so stoic. Were those actual tears shimmering in her eyes?
"Finally, we have a true purpose, a tangible goal," she continued, stepping back and assuming a posture of command. The trio executed an odd salute, something I couldn't quite make sense of.
"Glory to Mankind," their unified chant resonated, and then they all knelt. "Please grant us purpose, a reason for our existence. Allow us to serve you," their pledge echoed in the air.
Meanwhile, my expression mirrored a solid "WTF!"
--666--
After the whirlwind of that emotional spectacle, I found myself back on my makeshift mattress, having enjoyed a rather primitive but satisfying dinner of boar meat and unseasoned fruits. Hunger had a way of making even the simplest fare taste fantastic.
Thank the heavens for these androids having the know-how that humans require sustenance to survive.
I was still stationed within the same building, while my trio of "knights" – or whatever they were becoming – scouted the perimeter, seemingly on guard duty to protect me from the wild machines that roamed the area.
I was tired, so I didn't argue much and laid on the uncomfortable mattress.
"Sunday, have you managed to connect to any local network? These Androids seem to have strong defenses," I said to my AI blandly. Unlike Jarvis and Friday, my Sunday didn't possess its own consciousness.
Friday had mentioned that Sunday would only develop its own consciousness if Friday was absent. So, for years, Sunday had merely been a tool, similar to my phone or computer. However, now that we were separated from Friday, I had a feeling that Sunday might start developing its own sense of being.
"Still not connected. Please wait a few more days for an update. I will notify you if there's any progress," Sunday replied with an equally bland tone. It still felt like I was conversing with Chat GPT.
"Alright, time to see what items I've got in my storage ring. It's been ages since I last checked," I muttered, examining the ring on my left hand.
My relationship with Dr. Strange is... well, it's a bit odd. He's not exactly the friendliest guy, especially when it comes to kids. But somehow, he tolerates me – just barely. I even attempted to learn magic from the guy, but apparently, my magical aptitude is lower than a snail's IQ.
He does carry a bit of guilt over my dad's death, so he'd spend some of his precious free time hanging out with me. I guess being the semi-popular kid around the Avengers had its perks – they were always up for teaching me new stuff.
Since I can't perform actual magic, he hooked me up with three rings. First, there's the Storage Ring – pretty self-explanatory. Then the Healing Ring, which comes in handy when I pull off one of my usual stunts. And lastly, the Barrier Ring, which is great for when I find myself in a tight spot.
Too bad my mirror dimension ring shattered. Now I can't scare people by telling them I've pulled them into Shadow Realm.
Now, I'm all about science taking the lead, but there's something utterly captivating about magic. It's like science that hasn't gone mainstream yet, a hidden treasure waiting to be discovered.
So yeah, I've got these three magical tricks up my sleeve. But there's a catch – they've got a countdown. Since I can't exactly provide them with magic juice, they absorb it from the environment and slowly replenish themselves.
A holographic screen materialized before me, accompanied by a soft beep from my headphones – or as I like to call it, Sunday's Nest.
Weaponry and Tools:
Nano Tech 10 Unit
Rescue Armor (Mark XLIX)
Mark Veronica (Hulkbuster 2.0)
Captain America's Shield (Replica)
Asgardian Omni-language Chip
Vibranium Wakandian Spear
Basic Web Shooters
Mjolnir Multi Tool Box with Hammer, Knife, Pliers, and Screwdriver, etc.
Igniter
First Aid Supply
Whistle
Materials:
Water Purification Tablets x10
High Energy Bars x5
Glow Sticks x1
Advanced Arc Reactor x1
Arc Reactor x5
Basic Arc Reactor x10
Aluminum x3 Tons
Outfits:
Tactical Outfit: Well-designed with reinforced fabrics, multiple pockets, and modular elements.
Casual Outfit: Quality shirt, t-shirt, jeans, and sunglasses.
Camouflage Stealth Gear: Tactical outfit with extra nanotech fabric for blending into the environment.
Bike Modeled After Batmobile
Stark Industries Hoverboard
Well, isn't that just fantastic? My bad luck strikes again. It seems I forgot to store any food or heavy-duty tools. And don't even get me started on the lack of decent vehicles. Just my luck, really.
It is decent I admit, but not best in my arsenal.
With this nanotech at my disposal, the least I can do is whip up some tools before it decides to pack up and leave. Time to start thinking more strategically.
All the tools I stash in my personal inventory are like mementos or gifts from the people I hold dear. Some are even suits that belonged to my dad and mom, which I've managed to keep. I had to store some of them outside my personal storage and lab, simply because space was running out. Plus, there's no way I'm leaving my stuff in a shared storage or out in the open for anyone to grab.
Even for a guy with a family, privacy still matters.
And this Storage Ring? Well, it's practically a godsend for my dilemma. Sure, there's a limit to how much it can hold, but I've managed to cram all the important stuff in there – along with a few casual items, of course.
Though, if I had an inkling that I'd end up in this situation, I would've definitely stuffed it with more than what I've got now. Hindsight, am I right?
Still, it's better than having nothing at all. If Dr. Strange happened to be a woman, I swear she'd be my first-ever crush – all thanks to these awesome gifts. I mean, come on, the Healing Ring may take its sweet time, but it sure gets the job done. And let's not forget about the Barrier Ring, which can block just about anything once before it cools down.
Of course, the length of that cooldown depends on how much power the Ring used in the first place.
Anyway, I'm already getting antsy just sitting around here. Time to shake things up a bit.
"Hey 22B?" I called out, watching as the redheaded android patrolling the floor instantly perked up.
"Yes?" She responded with equal enthusiasm.
"I've been wondering, why isn't the sun moving at all?" I questioned, curious about the unusual phenomenon.
"Ah," she glanced outside before explaining, "due to a massive axis tilt over the years, this city is experiencing what you humans refer to as the Midnight Sun phenomenon. Unfortunately, it's causing areas like deserts to rapidly expand." Her tone turned somewhat melancholic.
Damn. That's quite the situation.
"Peter, is it alright if I call you that?" I gave her a nod in response.
"Could you tell me about humans? We were told about the humanity's existence as Gods during our production, so I'm curious to learn more about them," she asked with genuine enthusiasm.
Well, well. It seems these Androids are curious beings as well. So, what exactly sets me apart from them, other than the whole biology thing?
I mused to myself as I opted to sit on my bed instead of lying down.
"22B, why don't you invite your friends too? Instead of just talking about humans, I'll show you guys firsthand," I suggested with a smile.
Her joyful squeal was undeniably human-like in my eyes.
Operation "Turn Androids into Weebs and Revolutionize Otakudom" was a go.
This was idea i couldn't get it out my head so here it is.
And no self insert this time. My dude is exploring on uncharted territory.