Chapter 13: Stark's Decline, Adam's Dilemma, Hope's Worries
The world had barely caught its breath after the Harlem incident, and now, the whispers began. Tony Stark. The genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Dying. Palladium poisoning. Adam, watching the news reports, felt a familiar pang of meta-knowledge-induced dread. He knew how this played out. Tony's reckless behavior, the party, the almost-suicide-by-donut.
"Seriously, Tony? You get to be Iron Man, and you're still trying to self-destruct? It's like you're actively trying to win an award for 'Most Dramatic Self-Sabotage.' Someone needs to give this man a hug. Or, you know, a very strong sedative."
He saw Pepper Potts, looking haggard, trying to manage Stark Industries while Tony spiraled. Rhodey, ever loyal, was trying to keep Tony in line. Adam knew he couldn't just walk up to Tony and say, "Hey, dude, you've got a toxic metal in your chest, and the cure is in your dad's old stuff, just FYI." That would break the universe. But he could help. Subtly. And with a healthy dose of pranks.
He found Tony in his workshop, surrounded by holographic displays, frantically trying to find a new element. He looked terrible. Pale, gaunt, a haunted look in his eyes.
Adam, invisible, slipped into the workshop. He saw Tony activate a holographic screen, displaying complex chemical formulas. Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.
Adam focused, a mischievous glint in his eye.
[Illusions & Holograms activated. Target: Optic Nerves. Effect: Embarrassing Old Photos.]
Suddenly, the complex chemical formulas on Tony's holographic screen flickered, replaced by a slideshow of incredibly embarrassing old photos. Tony in a terrible 80s perm, Tony wearing a ridiculous sweater vest, Tony with a questionable mustache.
Tony froze, his eyes widening. "JARVIS! What the hell?! Get this off my screen!"
"Apologies, sir," JARVIS replied, sounding genuinely confused. "There appears to be an… anomaly. I cannot identify the source."
Tony slammed his hand on the console, trying to clear the images, but they persisted, cycling through his most awkward moments. He roared in frustration.
Adam, unseen, chuckled. "There you go, Tony. A little trip down memory lane. See? Not everything has to be about dying. Sometimes it's about remembering how truly awful your fashion choices were."
He left the workshop, satisfied. The prank hadn't cured Tony, but it had certainly distracted him.
Later, Hope van Dyne called him, her voice laced with concern. "Adam, have you seen Tony? He looks awful. And he's acting… even more reckless than usual. Dad's worried about him."
"Yeah, I've seen him," Adam said, a genuine sigh escaping him. "He's going through a rough patch. But he'll figure it out. He always does. He's Tony Stark, after all. He thrives on chaos and last-minute saves."
"But what if he doesn't?" Hope pressed. "What if he… fails?"
"He won't," Adam said, a cryptic certainty in his voice. "He's got too much to do. And too many people who need him. Besides, I've got my agency on the case. We're looking into some… suspicious activities that might be connected to his current predicament."
"Suspicious activities?" Hope asked, intrigued.
"Yeah. Some guy named Ivan Vanko. Russian. Likes to build things. Dangerous things. And he seems to have a grudge against the Stark name," Adam said, watching Jemma and Skye at their consoles, already digging.
Jemma, her brow furrowed in concentration, was analyzing a grainy image of Vanko's early arc reactor prototype. "The energy signature is… unique. Highly unstable, but incredibly powerful. It's almost a mirror image of Stark's, but with a dangerous twist."
Skye, meanwhile, was hacking into obscure Russian government databases, searching for any mention of Vanko. "He's a ghost, Adam. Very few digital footprints. But I'm finding some old schematics for a… a whip-like weapon. Powered by an arc reactor."
"Bingo. Whiplash. And it's only a matter of time before he makes his grand entrance. Monaco, if I recall correctly. Time to get ready for some international espionage and a very important first meeting."
Adam leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face. Tony was struggling, but he had a team. An unseen, chaotic, prank-loving team. And soon, he'd have a very important, very attractive spy on his radar. Things were about to get interesting.
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