The pain hit first.
Not the searing kind—more like a pressure. A pounding pulse behind the eyes, the kind you get after a long night and a bottle too many. Then came the scent: lemon-scented polish, faintly charred circuits, and… mahogany?
He blinked.
The ceiling above him was too ornate. Gold trim. Victorian curves. A chandelier. Real crystal. This wasn't a hospital. And this definitely wasn't his dingy New York apartment from three days ago—the one he'd collapsed in after another twenty-hour coding binge and half a season of Daredevil.
He sat up fast. A mistake.
The migraine throbbed harder, and with it came a rush of voices. Data. Code. Design patterns. Names. Stark. Pym. Rogers. SHIELD. Vibranium.
"Ugh…" he groaned, clutching his head.
A ding echoed faintly in his mind. Not a real sound—more like a notification inside his skull.
> [Cognitive Integration Complete.]
[User Identified: Anthony Edward Stark (Earth-199999)]
[External Mind Signature: [REDACTED]… Integration Successful.]
[Welcome to the Iron Archive.]
He froze. His breath caught. This was a dream, right?
Slowly, he stood and turned toward the floor-length mirror against the far wall. He expected a mess. He got a stranger.
The boy in the mirror looked… familiar, and not. Too young. High cheekbones. Thick black hair, too perfectly messy to be accidental. A spark in the eyes that said: I'm smarter than you and I know it. He was wearing silk pajamas, barefoot on imported rug.
He whispered the words, testing them.
"…Anthony Stark."
Then, it clicked.
His knees nearly gave out.
Tony Stark. The real one. The arrogant playboy genius. Iron Man. Infinity Stones. Endgame. Snap.
He wasn't in a dream. He was in the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
And he'd just transmigrated into Tony Stark's body.
---
The panic hit hard. He paced the room—huge, classic, Stark-class wealth on full display. Mahogany desk, holoprojector, vintage computer boards, Iron Man schematics sketched in pencil pinned on a corkboard. This had to be early in the timeline.
Fifteen, maybe sixteen. Pre-MIT Tony.
He moved to the desk and flipped open the tablet. No passwords. Of course. Young Tony wouldn't bother securing something in his own house.
Lines of code and circuit diagrams blurred past his eyes. Then the interface flickered—except the screen hadn't changed.
> [Iron Archive Interface Available.]
[Would you like to initiate Guided Access Mode?]
"…You're in my head, aren't you?" he whispered.
> [Correct. Neural sync: 91%. User cognitive signature stable.]
"So… what are you? A cheat code?"
> [Multiversal Engineering Archive v.1.0: Designed for cognitive acceleration, blueprint integration, and adaptive synthesis of Stark-compatible technology. Unlocks occur via sensory data, emotional stimuli, and exposure to Marvel-specific phenomena.]
That confirmed it.
Whoever he was—whoever he had been before—he was now Tony Stark. And someone (or something) had dropped a Marvel-exclusive cheat system into his head.
The fanboy part of him cheered. The engineer part of him started plotting.
---
He showered quickly—still dazed but functioning—and dressed in something lowkey: black jeans, a dark button-up, the trademark Stark swagger already starting to settle into his bones. As he descended the wide marble staircase, he mentally scrolled through what he remembered of the MCU timeline.
Howard and Maria Stark. Alive? Maybe.
Obadiah Stane. Definitely around.
Yinsen, Afghanistan, the cave? Still in the future.
SHIELD, Hydra, Thanos—way down the line.
If he played this right, he could change everything.
---
The dining room was too quiet.
Maria Stark sat with regal grace, flipping through a newspaper. Elegant as always. Howard Stark—older, colder—nursed a glass of scotch, even though it was barely past noon. His gaze barely flicked toward Tony before returning to his notes.
No one smiled.
"Anthony," Howard said without looking up.
Tony gave him a nod, walking to the buffet table to grab coffee and toast. Not too confident. Not too weird. Just… observant.
He noticed it now—the tension. The coldness in the room. Young Tony never saw it. Adult Tony always ran from it. This Tony memorized it.
Maria's eyes lingered on him for a moment. "Sleep well?"
"Nightmares," he replied, sipping the bitter coffee.
Howard looked up. "Hmm. Try reading a manual instead of comic books."
Tony smiled. Classic Stark-dad insult #4. "Maybe I'll write one."
Before Howard could reply, a new presence entered the room. Balding. Crisp suit. Heavy steps. Eyes like ice behind a warm smile.
Obadiah Stane.
"Tony, my boy!" he said, striding over with open arms. "How's my favorite genius?"
You'll try to kill me in twelve years, Tony thought, smiling back. "Just another day in paradise, Uncle Obie."
They exchanged pleasantries. Laughs. Obie made a comment about tech investments and R&D budgets. Howard grumbled. Maria sighed.
Tony filed every word away like bullets into a chamber.
---
Later, back upstairs, he returned to the mirror.
He saw it now. The cracks. Not just in his reflection—but in the timeline.
This wasn't just a second chance. It was a puzzle. A sandbox. A war waiting to be rewritten.
He clenched his fists.
"Show me the Archive."
> [Initializing Interface…]
A soft blue HUD flickered into existence across his vision. Branches. Nodes. Glowing threads of data stretching toward names:
Howard Stark (Active)
SHIELD (Prototype Tech) (Partially Locked)
Arc Reactor - Alpha Core (Unstable, 62% Blueprint Available)
Armor Design: Mark I – Precursor (Observed: 0%)
Vibranium Physics (Locked: No sample data)
Pym Particles (Locked: Subject unknown)
AI Constructs: J.A.R.V.I.S. Prototype (Draft: 7%)
Ultron Protocols (Warning: Do Not Engage)
Multiversal Defense Systems (Offline – Access Denied)
His heart pounded. This was real. It was Marvel. It was him.
And he would rewrite it all.
Not just Iron Man. Not just a hero.
He would become something the world had never seen before:
A multiversal engineer with a god-tier cheat.
And this time, Tony Stark would win.
---
[END OF CHAPTER 1]