The entrance to Tony Stark's Manhattan workshop was a blend of minimalist design with obscenely expensive security.
Alex Kane placed his hand on the scanner. A soft chime answered.
J.A.R.V.I.S.'s voice, smooth and polite, echoed in the hallway.
"Welcome, Mr. Kane. Sir is currently occupied. You may wait in the lounge."
The reinforced door slid open with a whisper.
"Come on, JARVIS," Alex muttered as he stepped through. "You know I don't have that habit. Just tell Tony to put his pants back on. I don't want to walk in on him naked."
"Sir, Mr. Kane has passed the primary checkpoint."
Tony glanced up at the security feed and saw Alex walking toward the lab. From under the raised chassis of the Mark VI, he called out, "JARVIS, lock down all files on Project Carrie. Scrub the access logs. And for God's sake, hide the pictures from that party in Monaco."
Across the lab, holographic displays blinked out one by one. The last to vanish was a slow-motion replay of Alex using his telekinetic shield flaring against a storm of gunfire.
"All sensitive files secured, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. confirmed.
A moment later Alex stepped into the main lab. Tony was where Alex expected him—soldering iron in one hand, a holographic schematic rotating lazily in the other.
"Knock, knock," Alex said, leaning against a workbench.
Tony smirked. "Look what the cat dragged in. To what do I owe the pleasure, 'Mr. Knight'? Finally come to beg for one of my suits?"
"Just thought I'd drop off a housewarming gift. And..." Alex pulled a data chip from his pocket and tossed it onto the bench. "I need a favor. Consider this as a thank you for not building your eyesore of a tower right next to mine."
Tony caught the chip, his smirk fading into curiosity. "JARVIS?"
A slot opened. The chip slid home, and instantly the lab lit up—schematics of exotic energy weapons, analysis of mercenary armor, and forensic reports on a self-destruct charge. Alongside them, captured combat footage appeared: Knights under brutal fire, shields flaring as advanced rounds chewed through steel, coordinated enemy squads pressing them into a kill box, and the final devastating detonation ripping apart the safe house. The grainy body-cam footage carried the raw violence of survival against annihilation.
Tony set his tools down, all humor gone. "Not exactly a fruit basket," he muttered, eyes narrowing as he scanned. "This charge... elegant in its destructiveness. Whoever designed this wasn't building bombs. They were sculpting them. Your people...are they okay?"
"We held the line," Alex said evenly. "But they came prepared. Tech we've never seen. I need to know what we're up against before they return stronger."
For a moment Tony's smirk slipped, replaced with genuine concern. "Alexander Kane, asking for help. The world really must be ending." He zoomed in on the schematics. "Alright. JARVIS, run a comparative analysis—arms dealers, terror groups, rogue states. I want a fingerprint."
"Running analysis now, sir."
Alex gave a short nod. "Thanks, Tony."
"Yeah, yeah. Don't get mushy. Just remember—you owe me. And Alex?" Tony's tone sharpened. "Whoever these guys are, they're not amateurs. Watch your back."
Alex toyed idly with the hydraulic assistant arm. "Speaking of amateurs—you remember Ivan Vanko? The guy with the whips?"
Tony glanced at him. "You mean the lunatic who almost sliced me in half? Yeah, pretty hard to forget."
"Well, forget the whips. I'm looking at the exoskeleton design for my Knights. But..." Alex's eyes flicked to Tony's arc reactor. "We're missing something."
Tony stiffened. "That's not something I can hand out like candy. I trust you. But your Knights? I don't know them. How do I know one won't betray you and this end up in the wrong hands?"
Alex's smile was quiet, but his words carried steel. "Because their loyalty isn't bought with money. It's forged. I can't promise peace or justice, but betrayal? That will 'never' happen." He had spent 400,000 SP to purchase twenty Eternal Scrolls, nearly half of which had been used to bind the Knights to their oath. If corruption ever seeped into the order, it would come only through Richard, Maya and her group, and of course Alex himself, for they were not made to swear the oath.
Tony studied him. Whatever Kane meant, it wasn't bravado. Finally, Stark exhaled.
"Fine. But you're getting the older model. Friends' price. And fifty—no more. Fury would have a stroke if he saw you fielding an army in power armor."
Alex grinned. "Fifty will do."
"Sir," JARVIS interjected smoothly, his voice calm but precise. "While reviewing the footage, I discovered a partially erased insignia on one of the armor. After cross-referencing against our database, I have reconstructed a reasonable match."
On the holographic display, the faint, scarred mark flickered back into existence. JARVIS's systems ran a quick diagnostic, and a moment later, the full emblem resolved in stunning clarity.
Both Alex's and Tony's smiles vanished. The sight of it drew a silence as heavy as lead.
Tony slowly turned, his eyes narrowing at Alex. But Alex had already closed his eyes, his jaw clenched, and fury radiating from him.
"I should have killed that fucker," Alex muttered, his voice low and venomous. Without another word, he turned and walked out, his anger trailing behind him like a storm.
Tony didn't stop him. Instead, he faced the image again. The logo of a jet gleamed proudly atop the words beneath it:
HAMMER INDUSTRIES.
{Lately, I feel like I'm becoming what I always hated. The slow author. Every week I promise myself to create at least 8 chapters, but I can't get past four. Four is like a cursed number for me because I couldn't grow past four, if you know what I mean.
Anyway, check out my patreon/Chaoswriter01 for more advanced chapters.
WARNING: If you read this message and didn't donate $1 to ko-fi.com/chaoswriter01 you guys are gay.}