Ben met Fury's gaze steadily, unflinching. "Like I said, parallel universe. No records because I don't belong here. The Omnitrix? Yeah, it's got safeguards. Azmuth's paranoid—doesn't trust anyone with full access. But I'm not hiding an agenda. What you see is what you get."
Hill scoffed, leaning in closer. "Bullshit. You're holding back. We know about the company fortress, the drones, not to mention the various other business you've been building. If you're so transparent, hand over the watch. Let our people study it."
Ben chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Not a chance. This thing's bonded to me—literally. And even if it wasn't, I'm not turning it over to SHIELD's lab rats. I've told you enough to play nice. If you want trust, it goes both ways. I don't you'd find another individual as transparent as"
Fury straightened, exchanging a glance with Hill—a silent calculation of risks and leverage. "Fair enough. For now. But we're watching, Tennyson. One wrong move, and that priority level 12 bumps up."
Ben stood smoothly, his calm unbroken. "Understood. Anything else, or can I get back to cleaning up your mess?"
The door hissed open at Hill's reluctant gesture, but as Ben stepped out, he felt their eyes boring into his back. He'd given them threads to pull—just enough to satisfy without unraveling the whole truth. Some secrets stayed buried.
' Well, it's not like SHIELD could ever stop me, in the first place. ' Ben thought to himself as he walked toward the science lab.
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Before heading back to the company, Ben stopped at a makeshift SHIELD science outpost near the docks. Meeting with a cluster of weary physicists huddled over salvaged Chitauri tech, trading notes under portable floodlights.
Ben spent a few minutes with them—sharing quick insights on energy signatures, shaking hands, offering what little encouragement he could. Tony and Bruce weren't there; both men having left the city the previous day.
Thor had also left world after getting some clues of where Loki had vanished to, leaving right after saying his good bye. Meanwhile, Widow and Hawkeye were on a top secret mission involving some missing Chitauri technology.
Ben rode his motorcycle back through the scarred streets of Manhattan, the engine's low growl cutting through the post-invasion hush.
The attack had hammered the global economy. National security stocks—defense contractors, aerospace, energy—had taken the hardest hits. The American market bled red; exchanges worldwide teetered on panic. The UN was scrambling to stabilize things, but confidence was in short supply.
Ben parked in the underground garage, helmet under one arm as he strode through the lobby. A handful of surviving security drones buzzed overhead like watchful insects, scanning for threats.
"Olivia," he called.
"Right here, boss," her Texas drawl answered from hidden speakers.
"When's the board meeting?"
"Virtual session kicks off in three hours. Everything's queued and ready."
"Good." He stepped into his private office on the lower levels, the door sealing behind him with a soft pneumatic sigh. A flick of his wrist summoned a holographic array above the glass desk—rocket schematics, orbital trajectories, rift-detection arrays, all glowing in crisp blue and green.
"So this is what you've been hiding down here," came a familiar voice from the doorway.
Ben glanced up, genuinely surprised. Angela stood there, arms folded, silhouetted against the corridor light.
"You're here?" he said, brow lifting.
"I'm still CEO and President on paper, if I'm not mistaken." She stepped inside, her tone dry. "How's your arm doing?" she asked, glancing down at Ben's right forearm.
"It's healing. Thanks for asking," Ben said finally.
Ben tapped the desk absently, eyes flicking back to the holos. "So… are you here to formally hand in your resignation?"
"No." Angela walked closer, studying the displays. "Even if I filed it, the system's still frozen. People aren't exactly in the mood to process paperwork."
She paused on the image of a sleek orbital interceptor prototype. "I'm guessing this is what you're pitching to the board."
"Yeah." A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Stark and I are teaming up on it once things settle. Joint venture—new entity, focused on space exploration and defensive systems."
Angela arched a brow. "Weren't we supposed to spin that off by ourselves in the next two years?"
"Plans change." Ben shrugged. "We just survived an extraterrestrial invasion. Space isn't a luxury anymore; it's survival. Fastest path to leapfrog our tech base—materials, propulsion, sensors, everything."
"The aliens didn't exactly fly here in ships," she countered, crossing her arms. "They ripped a hole in the sky."
"Exactly why I started this." He tapped a control; a new schematic bloomed beside the rocket—elegant lattice arrays labeled PROJECT S.R.D.T: SPATIAL RIFT DETECTION & TRACKING. "Early-warning system. Detects breaches in real time, pinpoints origin points, maps dimensional stress. If another portal opens, we'll know before the first Chitauri steps through. I planned to bring Bruce Banner and Stark on board once I complete the final schematics."
"You came up with this all by yourself in just two weeks?" Angela asked, a bit surprised.
"I did it with the help of one of my smarter aliens. I'm just going over it now," Ben admitted. He wasn't a once-in-a-century genius like Bruce or Tony.
Angela leaned in, intrigued despite herself. "Can it close them?" she asked.
"Sadly, no for now," Ben answered, shaking his head. "Portal tech's a nightmare. Unless it's actively powered—like the Tesseract—the physics don't play nice. Shut off the source, and the rift might collapse… or it might not. The cube follows its own rules. Best we can do is find a material that naturally restricts spatial breaches—if one exists. Or advance our current technology a head enough to stop such things from which is... unlikely be accomplished in our lifetime. "
She exhaled, disappointment flickering across her face, but she nodded. "That… makes sense, I think. Opening a hole is insane. Closing one on demand would be incredible."
Silence settled for a beat.
"How long until the meeting?" she asked.
"Two hours, forty-five minutes. Why?"
She scoffed. "Don't play dumb."
Ben's smile widened, easy and knowing. "Then welcome back, Mrs. President."
Angela rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched. She studied the holos again. "Isn't this the part where you ask why the sudden change of heart?"
"Nope." He was already tweaking variables on the rift array. "I know you well enough to understand why you came back."
" You knew I'd was going to come back eventually didn't you? " Angela asked with a frown.
" Yeah, like I said before things are only going to get wider from here." Ben reminded, looking eyes with his right hand woman. " And I don't exactly trust the government to handle what comes next, if you know what I mean. "
Angela mind went back to the video she had watched of the battle captured through the drones feed. Remembering how the government authorized a missile strike which would have decimated half the city if it weren't for Stark intervention.
She stared at him for several seconds, caught off guard by the simplicity of it. Then she shook her head, half-exasperated, half-amused. "Just send the full presentation packet to my office."
She turned to leave, pausing at the threshold. "Oh—and you did fix the shattered windows in there, right?"
"Yes. Everything's squared away."
With a final nod, she was gone.
Right after Olivia's avatar flickered into existence on the desk corner—cowboy hat tipped low, legs dangling off the edge like she was perched on a saloon railing. "Boss, one quick question."
"Shoot."
"Why'd Miss Green come back? I ran every angle and still can't pin a motive that fits."
Ben glanced at the avatar, amused. "Tell me something, Liv. Is Angela the type to sit back, cross her fingers, and hope someone else handles the hard stuff?"
Data streams rippled across Olivia's form for a heartbeat. "No. Even when she's out of her depth, she dives in—learns as much as she can, asks the right questions. Her visits to A&D, R&D, even the drone bays… she's been using me as a crash-course tutor on every major project."
"Exactly." Ben leaned back, smiling faintly. "She reminds me of Steve Jobs back in my old universe—ruthless curiosity wrapped in control. No way she'd let the biggest pivot in the company history happen without her involvement. Especially since it concerns the safety of Josh and Juliana as well as the world. "
Space had always been the long game—his North Star since day one. Angela used to call it delusional every time he floated the idea. Now, after Loki and the Chitauri, it wasn't a dream anymore. It was necessity.
"Does this mean you plan on moving into weapons development, boss?" Olivia asked, tilting her holographic head curiously.
Ben's expression sobered. "I'm not exactly keen on making weapons for the government. Never was. But I also can't start building anything with serious firepower without their approval… not anymore at least. And not after everything that's happened."
He paused, eyes drifting to the Omnitrix on his wrist. "The line's blurry now. Defense tech, early-warning systems, orbital platforms—they'll all have military applications whether we like it or not. The trick is staying on the right side of the line."
Ben main concerns where the potential of the U.S government using this as a powerful tool against political opponents.
Olivia's avatar gave a small nod, cowboy hat dipping. "Understood, boss. Just makin' sure we're all on the same page."
Forty-five minutes before the board convened, Ben rode the elevator up to the executive floor. Angela's office door stood open. As she sat behind her desk on a Zoom call, voice steady and professional.
"Understood, Alexander. Thank you for holding the line through all this. We'll touch base after the meeting."
The call ended with a soft chime. Angela looked up as Ben stepped inside and took the seat opposite her.
"So what do you think?" he asked.
"It's a step in the right direction," she replied, tapping her stylus against the desk. "Enough to keep investors breathing and give the stock a quick rebound. Announcing this new venture with Stark Industries will do wonders—both for the board and the public. It ties your superhero image to his. People trust Tony Stark. They're still deciding whether to trust you."
Ben gave a wry nod. That was the real wound the invasion had left on Tennyson Industries' valuation. SHIELD had helped craft the official narrative: Ben Tennyson, human, bonded to an advanced alien device that allowed genetic transformation into various species. A hero, not a threat.
But the internet didn't care about official statements.
Conspiracy threads had exploded—some calling him an advance scout for another invasion, others speculating he was a sleeper agent who'd conveniently "switched sides" when the Chitauri arrived. The rumors had been simmering even before his identity went public about his transformation. Another high-profile alliance with Stark was the fastest way to drown them out.
"Next step is coordinating with Stark Industries and looping in the relevant government agencies to get the ball rolling," Angela continued. Then she paused, something shifting in her expression.
"What is it?" Ben asked.
She met his eyes squarely. "Just one question. Do I need to worry about the legal—and PR—repercussions of you secretly turning the company headquarters into a fortress? Guns, missiles, automated turrets… all installed without board approval. Without my approval."
Her tone was calm, but the undercurrent was sharp. Gratitude for the protection warred with legitimate anger.
Ben raised both hands in a placating gesture. "You don't have to worry about it."
She arched a brow. "That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting right now," he said evenly. "The systems are offline, locked behind my biometrics and Olivia's protocols. No one's launching anything without my say-so. And if it ever comes to explaining them… I'll take the heat. Not you. Not the board."
Angela studied him for a long moment. Then she exhaled, tension easing just enough. "Well… good."
She stood, smoothing her blazer. "The meeting starts in a few minutes. I want to run a few details past Pepper before we go live. She's already texting me about equity splits and IP sharing."
"Then I'll leave it to the two of you." Ben rose as well. "I'll be down in the workshop. I'm accelerating a lot of timelines. Might as well get ahead of the curve."
Angela gave a small nod—half acknowledgment, half warning. "Don't do anything I'll have to clean up later."
"No promises," Ben said with a faint grin. He turned toward the door, pausing just long enough to add, "But thanks for coming back."
She didn't reply immediately. When he glanced back, she was already pulling up a new call window, but the corner of her mouth lifted—just barely.
The elevator doors closed behind him, and Ben let out a slow breath.
The board meeting would be the easy part. As long as there was money to be made and low risk of government intervention things would be fine.
The real work—the dangerous, world-changing work—was only just beginning.
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Executive Suite
The holographic interface expanded into 16 floating holographic screens. Board members' faces materialized one by one—some from fortified home offices in the Hamptons, others from secure bunkers overseas, a few still wearing the same rumpled suits they'd had on since the invasion.
Stern faces in tailored suits filled now filled the digital screen: venture capitalists who'd bet early on Tennyson Industries, government liaisons with unreadable expressions, and a smattering of tech luminaries who'd joined post-IPO.
The collective tension was palpable; everyone knew the numbers were ugly, but the real question was whether Tennyson Industries could turn apocalypse into opportunity.
Angela stood at the center podium, calm and composed. "Thank you for joining on such short notice. As you know, the Battle of New York has reshaped the world—and our priorities. Before we dive into the financials, let me recap our structure for context, to understand the full situation. "
A clean, animated org chart bloomed beside her, lines glowing crisp white against a dark background.
"Tennyson Industries remains our private holding company—the strategic brain. We handle high-level R&D oversight, capital allocation, and long-term direction. Ownership breaks down as follows: Ben holds 46 percent, I maintain a significant co-founder stake, and the balance sits with early minority investors. We do not manufacture consumer products or run social platforms directly; that's delegated to our subsidiaries."
The chart branched.
"OmniCore Technologies—our public consumer hardware and ecosystem division. Smartphones, tablets, smartwatches, laptops, operating systems, cloud services. IPO'd in 2011, current market cap hovering around $500 billion despite recent volatility. Tennyson retains a 60 percent controlling stake—public funding and legitimacy without full regulatory exposure."
Nods appeared among the avatars. OmniCore's devices had become cultural fixtures; being several years ahead of the competition with their seamless integration had quietly redefined daily life.
" Global Plus—our separate public social media and communications arm. Instagram-style feeds, short-form video platforms, creator tools, messaging, ad networks. Which IPO'd in late 2010, valued at approximately $300 billion. Another 60 percent stake held by the parent."
A few board members shifted; Pulse's user numbers had spiked during the crisis—people glued to feeds for real-time updates—but so had scrutiny over content moderation.
"Axiom Pay—private fintech and infrastructure software. Payment rails, enterprise SaaS, cross-border payroll, government digital contracts, secure cloud backbone. Internal valuation: $150 billion. Kept fully private for strategic sensitivity."
Finally, a smaller branch highlighted in prototype blue. "Helios Motors—our private electric vehicle division in collaboration with Stark Industries. With the prototype of our M-Xara series line complete, manufacturing facilities under construction, first consumer model targeted for 2013–2014. Speculative internal value: $40 billion. 100 percent owned by the holding company."
Angela let the structure sink in. "Combined enterprise value approaches $1 trillion. Tennyson Industries controls the majority across the board, giving the holding company roughly $670 billion in attributable value. Ben's 46 percent stake equates to approximately $308 billion in equity; my 35 percent stake sits at roughly $235 billion. This is not cash—it's control. And right now, control is what matters most."
The board of directors leaned in; the recap grounded them from the chaos, reminding them why they'd invested in the first place.
Angela continued. "Our stock's taken a hit—down 28 percent amid the global panic. Losing the company about 280 Billion dollars, however our social media platforms and OmniWatch have resin against. With our Omni Smart Watches being used to find missing individuals across. This alongside our still unreleased drone technology. "
Footage of Drones flying through the city helping firefighter appeared, as well as post and video of people and first responders findings missing person who had an OmniWatch on.
Angela tapped the her table. "Which brings us to the pivot."
A new window expanded. Two additional avatars joined the call almost simultaneously—neither spoke at first.
Tony Stark appeared in his Malibu workshop along side Bruce who could be seen in the background working on something. Tony's sleeves rolled up, arc reactor glowing faintly through his shirt. He was leaning over a workbench cluttered with holographic parts, clearly mid-prototype. He gave a single, distracted nod toward the camera—acknowledgment, not engagement—then returned to whatever he was welding.
Pepper Potts materialized in a cleaner corner of the same feed, professional as ever, tablet in hand. She offered a crisp smile and a small wave. "Angela. Board. Where honored to be here."
" Am sure as you know a few days before the invasion Stark Industries became the signal largest holding stack holder in the company. Holding 6.3 percent of the company's controlling stake. With us holding 5.2 percent stake in Stark Group. " Angela remained.
This news had dominated the news when it was announced but not for long as two days later the invasion happened. Making quite few people to forget this fact.
Angela continued without missing a beat. "That brings us to the next section of this meeting. Effective immediately, we are formalizing a joint venture between Tennyson Industries and Stark Industries. Focus: space-based early-warning systems, orbital defense platforms, rift-detection arrays, and next-generation propulsion. With Ben and Tony Stark leading the charge in our space faring activities. "
Tony didn't look up from his work, but his voice cut through the feed—casual, clipped, already half-lost in schematics. "We're not waiting for permission slips. Eighteen months to low-Earth prototypes. Rift detectors catch breaches before they rip open. Arc power keeps them running. Ben's already feeding me prelims. We move fast or we get eaten next time."
Quite a few murmurs began to erupt at this exciting news.
Pepper stepped in smoothly, the diplomat to Tony's blunt force. "Financially, it's structured for minimal risk and maximum upside. Stark commits $5 billion in seed capital and IP licensing; we expect Tennyson to match. Government contracts are already in preliminary discussions—DOD, NASA, international partners. Projected ROI within three years, conservative estimates."
The board erupted into questions—regulatory exposure, IP sharing, cost overruns, antitrust flags. Angela fielded the strategic angles with precision; Pepper handled the numbers and legal framing. Tony contributed only in short bursts—grunts of agreement, a single "That's garbage, reroute the power coupling like this" directed at someone off-screen, and one pointed "Tell Ben to stop over-engineering the lattice arrays; we're not building cathedrals."
Tony spoke clearly directed at Ben, before his feed was cut of having done his part in showing support.
Ben's absence was noted but not dwelled on. "He's in the sublevel workshop," Angela said simply. "Prototyping as we speak. You'll see his signature on every major deliverable."
The vote came swiftly: unanimous approval. Funds authorized. Joint venture greenlit. Next was getting government agencies approval which Stark Group would head.
Tony appearance was done as a favor to Ben fully understanding how difficult his situation was from his own experience.
The after meeting ended after a couple of minutes as Angela and Pepper took question from board members before the connection dropped.
Angela exhaled, the nevers fading away as she lead back against her chair. The empire had just taken its next step—bigger, faster, and pointed straight at the stars.
With the city skyline stretched beyond the newly repaired windows, a patchwork of recovery under the late afternoon sun—cranes swinging like pendulums, streets buzzing with cleanup crews. She sank back into her chair, the adrenaline of the pitch fading into a familiar ache. Her tablet pinged almost immediately: a follow-up call request from Pepper Potts.
Angela accepted, and Pepper's face filled the screen—poised as ever, though the faint lines around her eyes betrayed the exhaustion of managing Stark Industries through the apocalypse.
"Angela," Pepper said, her tone warm but efficient. "That went smoother than expected. The board ate it up—Tony's cameo didn't hurt, either. He's already buried in his lab, tweaking those arc integrations you mentioned."
Angela managed a small smile. "Thanks for jumping in. Your breakdown on the financials sealed it. And Tony… well, his presence alone is worth a few billion in credibility."
Pepper leaned forward slightly, her expression softening. "Speaking of which, this isn't our first rodeo together. The charging station rollout for Helios Motors has with been set back due to many of the charging station we've began construction being destroyed in the battle. "
Angela nodded, the partnership a rare bright spot in the chaos. It had started as a pragmatic alliance—Stark's clean new energy grids powering their electric vehicles across the Northeast—but it had evolved into something more symbiotic, especially now.
Pepper paused, studying Angela's face through the screen. "But enough shop talk. You look like you could use a breather. How are you holding up? Really?"
The question hung there, simple yet probing. Angela hesitated, her fingers tracing the edge of her desk. She'd always been the unflappable one—the CEO who balanced billion-dollar deals with single motherhood, the stabilizer who kept Ben's wild ambitions grounded. But the Battle of New York had cracked that facade.
"I'm… managing," she admitted finally, her voice quieter than intended. "The twins are still processing it all. They're nine, Pepper. They shouldn't be watching news debates about alien invasions instead of cartoons."
Pepper's eyes filled with empathy. "I can't imagine. Tony's been a wreck himself—pushing harder than ever, but it's his way of coping. What about you? Finding out about Ben's… side gig during all that? It must have been a shock."
Angela's breath caught. "Shock doesn't cover it. I knew he was secretive, eccentric even, but a vigilante? Is something I could never imagine. I only learned the truth mid-battle. Loki had me—mind-controlled, like a puppet. He forced me to…" She trailed off, the memory sharp: the knife she held against her neck, her own hand stabing at herself, only for Ben—to intervene at the last second. "I nearly ended it. Right there, with my kids in the next room. If Ben wasn't...."
Pepper's face tightened with understanding. "God, Angela. I'm so sorry. Tony filled me in on the highlights, but hearing it from you… it's horrific. No one should go through that."
Angela straightened, composing herself. "It's why I came back. I was ready to walk—resign, cut ties, take the twins somewhere quiet and safe. But couldn't leave after that? Rewatching the footage of the world nearly end, seeing Ben out there fighting alongside Tony and the others? I realized running isn't an option. Not anymore."
She leaned forward, her voice gaining strength. "Josh and Juliana—they're my everything. The reason I built this company with Ben in the first place. A stable life, opportunities I never had. But now? Aliens, gods, portals in the sky… I can't just hope someone else fixes it. This joint venture, the space exploration—it's about creating a safer world for them. Early warnings, defenses that keep threats out there, not raining down on our cities. If I step away now, I wouldn't feel comfortable not knowing. "
Pepper nodded slowly, her own resolve mirroring Angela's. "I get it. Completely. Tony's the same—reckless as he is, it's all about legacy now. Protecting what matters. You're not alone in this. Stark Industries has your back, and so do I. If you need anything—resources, a sounding board, even just a vent session—call me. Day or night."
Angela felt a knot loosen in her chest, the weight shared just a fraction. "Thank you, Pepper. Means more than you know. Let's make this partnership count—for all of us."
The call ended with a soft beep, leaving Angela in the hush of her office. She glanced at the family photo on her desk—Josh and Juliana grinning gap-toothed smiles, oblivious to the storms ahead. For them, she'd fight. For them, she'd stay.
Down in the workshop, Ben was building the tools. But up here, Angela would ensure they were wielded wisely. The empire wasn't just about power anymore—it was about protection.
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