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Waking up, Kael found himself imbued with the combined strength of five versions of himself.
His previously lean physique was now sculpted like marble, every muscle fiber optimized. Under the morning sunlight filtering through the Manhattan hotel window, he looked like a flawless work of art. The power coiled within him was staggering; he imagined that even Captain America would struggle to do more than fight him to a draw in a pure test of strength.
However, the most valuable asset wasn't this peak-human body, but the overlapping memories from the Multiverse. To survive the Marvel world without becoming "meat" for the next alien invasion, he needed more than just five times the muscle—he needed the mind.
Kael glanced at the woman sleeping beside him and pulled up his pants, ready to ghost. Sentiment was a distraction; he had transcended base interests. He was now a Calculating Survivor.
Just then, the beauty on the bed stirred. Looking at Kael's half-naked, perfectly defined torso, her drowsy eyes widened. She subconsciously swallowed hard. Her alcohol-numbed brain tried to reconcile the man from last night with the Greek god standing before her now.
Did I really score this big last night?
"Wait... don't go yet..." she murmured, reaching out.
Kael, caught off guard by the sudden persistence, found himself pinned back to the mattress. By the time he actually managed to put his pants back on for the second time, it was almost noon.
That didn't count, he told himself, straightening his shirt as he left the hotel. I was momentarily careless. From this moment on, I am a man of focus and discipline.
Back at his apartment, Kael showered away the scent of perfume and sat at his terminal. His mind drifted to the White Space—specifically the blueprints shared by his Cyberpunk self.
He took out a pen and paper. Like a high-precision printer, he began transcribing the manufacturing specifications for the Arasaka Shinmura, an early-model smart pistol.
In the Night City of 2077, the Shinmura was an obsolete relic, replaced by Kang Tao's superior tech. But in the Marvel world of the mid-2000s, it was a decade ahead of anything on the market.
Kael was careful. Being one step ahead makes you a genius; being ten steps ahead makes you a target for S.H.I.E.L.D. or an alien autopsy. He extracted only the design concept of "Smart Micro-Projectiles" to open his promotion channel.
Stark Industries was the world's premier military-industrial conglomerate, but its hidden pillar was AI. While J.A.R.V.I.S. was Tony's masterpiece, the public was wary of sentient machines. Smart weapons provided the perfect "middle ground"—intelligence with a safety switch.
Using the Shinmura specs and his "Technical Genius" trait, Kael dissected the smart-module to create a prototype AI program. It wasn't J.A.R.V.I.S., but it was better than anything the military had.
This should get Tony's attention, Kael thought. Being a 'Salary Thief' was fun, but I need Stark's resources to treat Delamain's fragmentation and build my own Titan.
He hit "Send" on an email to the company's internal R&D incubator.
Stark Mansion, Manhattan.
Tony Stark woke up, pushing three cover girls aside. A night of revelry had left him sluggish. He watched as Pepper Potts efficiently paid off the models and sent them on their way. Tony sat naked on the sofa, sipping coffee, his eyes fixed on a holographic display.
"Sir, I have an internal email that may pique your interest," J.A.R.V.I.S. announced.
"Let's see it, J."
Tony's gaze sharpened as he scanned the proposal. "Smart weapons... target-locking micro-munitions. Immature, but the logic-gate architecture is... actually quite elegant."
"The sender is a researcher named Kael Wayne," J.A.R.V.I.S. added, pulling up Kael's file.
Tony smirked. He respected talent, and he detested red tape. "Two degrees from MIT, sponsored by the Stark welfare program. If he's got the brass to pitch this, give him the keys. I want to see if he can actually build it."
"Allocating laboratory space and project funding," J.A.R.V.I.S. responded.
The next day, Kael moved into a private lab on the upper floors of the Stark Tower. Pepper arrived to personally hang the sign: Smart Weapon Research Lab.
"Tony thinks very highly of you, Kael," Pepper said warmly. "If you need anything—parts, clearance, or more coffee—here is my private link."
"Thank you, Pepper." Kael watched her leave, impressed. No wonder she ended up running the place.
He surveyed his new domain. It was small, but it was a start. He needed results before Tony's fateful trip to the Middle East. He looked at the team of assistants assigned to him.
"Crap. Martin?!"
The Black-American slacker from his old department winked at him. "Heard you were moving up, brother. I figured you'd need someone who knows the best bars in town for 'team building'."
Kael sighed. Martin was a "Salary Thief" through and through, but he was also a friend and a competent engineer when he actually put in the effort.
"Alright, Martin. Listen up. Smart weapons in the Cyberpunk world require Cyberware to lock onto targets. Since I can't exactly hand out ocular implants to the U.S. Army, we need a carrier."
Kael's mind locked onto the Pilot Helmet from the Titanfall world. By integrating a simplified version of a Titan's core into a helmet's HUD, he could create a system that corrected trajectories in real-time.
"Martin, get the fabrication unit ready," Kael commanded, his "Project Manager" mode engaging. "We're going to build the future. And no, we aren't going to the bar until the first prototype clears the range."
Martin felt a sudden chill down his spine. The "easy-going" Kael was gone. In his place was a man with a gaze as sharp as a Monowire.
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