"Besides, Apparition has severe distance limitations—it draws directly from your magical reserves," Gemini explained with the patience of someone who'd had this conversation before. "A journey from here to England would drain you into a literal husk. Even that magical power source you've been tinkering with wouldn't help—you'd need to stop midway to recover, and if you can't replenish your magic fast enough..." She made a graphic gesture across her throat.
Tony considered this soberly. Apparition might be optional for most wizards, but for someone planning to continue the superhero lifestyle, the speed advantage over even his Mark V or Magic II was undeniable.
"What about Harry's method—that Portkey magic?"
Gemini snorted with barely concealed amusement. "You might as well ask to learn time travel. Portkey creation requires advanced spatial magic theory, and every permanent Portkey must be registered with MACUSA. Creating casual one-time versions is tolerated, but anything like Newt's permanent key would have Aurors at your door within hours."
Tony's eyes lit with the dangerous gleam of a man who'd just discovered a new engineering challenge. "How difficult is spatial magic to master?"
The possibilities were intoxicating—a secure safe house accessible only by magical key, emergency escape routes for Pepper and Happy, instantaneous travel anywhere in the world...
"Tony." Gemini's voice carried the weight of absolute certainty. "I've been studying magic since I was six years old. Fifteen years of dedicated learning, and I'm not even qualified to observe advanced spatial magic, let alone practice it. You've been exposed to magic for what—three months?"
Tony stroked his goatee thoughtfully. "Point taken. I suppose I need to stop treating magical education like a weekend hobby."
Gemini's expression softened slightly. "There is one alternative. With your Congressional status, you could apply to MACUSA for an official Portkey. As long as you're not planning anything obviously illegal, they're generally accommodating to government officials."
Tony's entire demeanor shifted to focused excitement. "Now that's practical. I'm thinking—use your shop as an anchor point, provide Pepper and Happy with emergency escape keys. One touch, instant safety. What do you think?"
Gemini grinned with the expression of someone who'd just secured a very lucrative long-term contract. "I love repeat customers! I'll carve out a dedicated safe room in the basement—reinforced walls, independent air supply, the works!"
"Wait—you're charging me for this?" Tony looked genuinely offended. "After everything we've been through?"
Gemini raised an eyebrow with mock innocence. "What a novel concept! We have a professional relationship, Mr. Stark. Why wouldn't I charge standard rates?"
Tony slapped down a black credit card with the dramatic flair of someone making a point. "Fine. That's linked to my primary account with essentially unlimited access. I'm tired of itemized billing every time I need magical services."
Gemini accepted the card with barely suppressed delight, personally escorting him to the Floo network with the courtesy reserved for her most valued clients. The moment he disappeared in green flames, she headed downstairs to check on Banner—they still had clothing appointments to arrange.
Tony had barely stepped through his front door when Pepper's voice cut through the mansion's silence like a blade.
"Tony! Where have you been? We've been trying to reach you for hours! There's been an incident!"
Tony blinked in confusion at the holographic display JARVIS had activated. "Pepper? Aren't you supposed to be in Monaco?"
"I am in Monaco!" Her image flickered with barely controlled panic. "That's exactly the problem! Where were you? Something terrible has happened!"
"I was consulting with the British Ministry of Magic," Tony said, his tone shifting to match her urgency. "What kind of incident? It's just a car race."
"See for yourself." Pepper's voice carried the weight of impending disaster.
The holographic display exploded with news feeds, social media posts, and amateur video footage. At the center of it all was a figure that made Tony's blood run cold—a massive Russian man wielding twin energy whips that carved through race cars like they were made of paper. But it was the device embedded in his chest that sent ice through Tony's veins.
An arc reactor. Crude, inefficient, but undeniably functional.
Just days ago, Tony had testified before Congress that arc reactor technology was impossible to replicate. Now it was being broadcast to the entire world.
"Where is he now?" Tony's voice had gone deadly quiet.
"Still on the track. He appeared during the race and just... started destroying everything. The military's mobilized, but they can't use heavy weapons in an urban area. Too many civilians, and evacuation is impossible."
Tony was already moving toward the basement. "I'm en route."
He paused at his armor selection, hand hovering between the Mark V and Magic II. The newer suit had capabilities that would end this fight in seconds, but it also had modifications that weren't ready for public scrutiny.
Mark V it was.
The Monaco Grand Prix had become a war zone. Smoking wreckage littered the track like metallic corpses, and the acrid smell of burning fuel mixed with ozone from energy weapons. The Russian stood in the center of it all, his whips crackling with stolen Stark technology.
"WHERE IS STARK?" His voice boomed across the circuit, each word punctuated by another devastating swing of his weapons. "THIEF! COWARD! SHOW YOURSELF!"
Military helicopters circled at a respectful distance while ground forces struggled to establish a perimeter. The crowd was a chaotic mix of fleeing spectators and morbidly curious onlookers with cell phones.
Tony descended from the sky like an avenging angel, repulsors charging with barely contained energy.
"I hear you're looking for me," he announced, his voice amplified by the suit's external speakers. "Care to explain why you're terrorizing innocent people?"
"Ivan Vanko," JARVIS whispered in his ear, data streaming across his HUD. "Son of Anton Vanko, former Stark Industries partner. Expelled for espionage activities and deported to Russia in 1967."
Ivan looked up with a smile that held no warmth whatsoever. "You and your father—both thieves! Anton Vanko created the arc reactor, but Howard Stark stole the credit!"
He lashed out with both whips simultaneously, energy trails searing the air where Tony had been a split second before.
"I suggest you surrender," Tony said, easily maintaining his aerial advantage. "This doesn't have to end badly for you."
Ivan's laughter was harsh and bitter. "You think this is the end, Stark? This is just the beginning! The world will see that Tony Stark is not the genius he pretends to be!"
Tony had heard enough. A single repulsor blast, precisely calibrated to incapacitate rather than kill, sent Ivan flying backward into a concrete barrier. The Russian crumpled like a broken doll, his makeshift arc reactor sparking and dying.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Police Chief Maltz Elige approached with the cautious respect reserved for someone who'd just witnessed a miracle. "Mr. Stark, I cannot thank you enough. That man... he was unstoppable."
Tony retracted his faceplate, studying the unconscious figure being secured by Monaco police. "Where will he be held?"
Maltz's expression grew uncomfortable as he glanced toward the cluster of military officials arguing in the background. "He will face justice, I assure you. Prison, certainly, though the exact arrangements..."
Tony followed his gaze to the American military personnel who were already making territorial claims over the prisoner. He'd seen this dance before.
"Right. I have other matters to attend to." The faceplate snapped shut with mechanical finality. "Try to keep him in one piece."
He launched skyward without waiting for a response, leaving Maltz to deal with the inevitable jurisdictional nightmare.
Back in his Malibu workshop, Tony stood before his collection of Iron Man suits like a general surveying his army. The Ivan Vanko incident had been a wake-up call—his technology was no longer unique, and that made everyone he cared about a target.
"JARVIS, pull up the Mark III specifications. Do we have sufficient materials for another unit?"
"Yes, sir. Shall I begin fabrication immediately?"
"Do it." Tony watched the automated systems spring to life, robotic arms dancing in perfect synchronization. "And JARVIS? Start researching prison security protocols. I have a feeling Mr. Vanko won't be staying locked up for long."
As machinery hummed around him, Tony turned back to his magical studies. Gemini was right—he'd been treating magic like a hobby when it should be a priority. If technology could be stolen and replicated, perhaps it was time to explore advantages that couldn't be reverse-engineered.
After all, you couldn't steal what you couldn't understand.
And very few people understood magic.
The workshop filled with the sounds of creation and learning—Tony Stark preparing for a war he was only beginning to comprehend.
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