"Tragic heroine?" Tony muttered, staring at the page. "Why tragic? Does she die? And if she's myheroine, does that mean I fail to save her?"
The thought spiraled. Tony Stark wasn't just a mechanic; he was a futurist. He had seen enough Hollywood blockbusters to know the tropes. The hero's girlfriend is usually the first victim. She's the motivation. The fridge-stuffer. Was that his fate? To lose someone just to learn a lesson about responsibility?
Suddenly, ink began to bleed onto the page again. This time, Tony watched it happen—words forming out of thin air, scrawled by an invisible hand.
It was definitive proof. This was no prank. This was supernatural.
June 10 (Continued)
Man, Gwen is gorgeous. No wonder she was the childhood crush of an entire generation. Maybe, since I'm here, I can stop the clock tower incident. I can save her.
But wait... the timeline is messed up. Gwen is sixteen. If I remember correctly, Peter Parker should be, like, seven years old right now in the MCU. He's a literal child. How is Gwen this old? How are they supposed to be a couple?
Is this not Earth-199999? No, it has to be. I saw Tony Stark on the news today. That arrogant, strutting peacock looks exactly like Robert Downey Jr. It's an uncanny resemblance. This has to be the Cinematic Universe. It can't be a comic variant.
Tony felt the blood drain from his face.
The information density in those few scribbled lines was enough to cause a stroke.
First: Relief. The girl wasn't for him. Gwen Stacy was apparently "paired" with someone named Peter Parker. Tony let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. When the diary first mentioned a "heroine," his mind had traitorously flashed to Pepper Potts. The idea of Pepper being "assigned" to him by a writer felt... wrong. But the idea of her being tragic? That was unacceptable.
Second: The Existential Nightmare.
"Earth-199999."
"Robert Downey Jr."
"Cinematic Universe."
Tony stood up, knocking his chair over. He walked to the window, staring out at the New York skyline.
"Jarvis," his voice trembled slightly. "Did you catch that?"
"Yes, Sir. The diarist refers to an actor named 'Robert Downey Jr.' He implies that your physical appearance is based on this actor."
"I look like an actor," Tony spat the words out like poison. "My face. My voice. My style. It's all... casting?"
He was Tony Stark. He was American royalty. To him, Hollywood actors were court jesters—people you paid to dance at parties. The idea that his entire existence was defined by one of them? That his jawline, his eyes, his very soul was just a performance?
It was humiliating.
"And he called me an 'arrogant peacock,'" Tony added, trying to deflect the horror with indignation. "I'll have you know I am a confident peacock."
"Sir, there is more," Jarvis continued, ignoring the deflection. "The diarist mentions 'Earth-199999.' If there is a numbering system, it implies a vast multiverse. 199999 iterations. And he implies there are other Tony Starks. Comic variants."
"Variants," Tony whispered. "Do they look like this Robert fellow too? Or do they look different? Are they smarter? Are they... happier?"
He paced the room, his mind racing at a million miles an hour.
"Jarvis, analysis. Now."
"Sir, based on the text, we can derive three conclusions," Jarvis replied, his tone clinical.
"One: You are a protagonist, but not the only protagonist. This 'Peter Parker' appears to be another central figure, with Gwen Stacy as his narrative partner."
Tony grunted. "Fine. I can share the spotlight. As long as I have top billing."
"Two: This universe is a composite. The diarist is confused because elements from different stories are blending. Gwen Stacy is older than she 'should' be relative to Peter Parker. This suggests that while this is a 'story world,' it is not following a strict script. Reality is fluid."
"Which means we have free will," Tony latched onto that hope. "Or at least, the script is broken. We can go off-book."
"Precisely, Sir. And three: The diarist's knowledge is fallible. He expects the 'Cinematic Universe' rules to apply, but the presence of an older Gwen Stacy contradicts his data. He is surprised. This confirms that while he knows the broad strokes of the future, he is not omniscient regarding the details of this specific timeline."
"So, we listen to him," Tony said, nodding slowly. "But we verify. We trust, but we verify."
He picked up the notebook again, tracing the name Lucas Chen.
"You think I'm just a character played by Robert Downey Jr., do you, Lucas?" Tony's eyes burned with a fierce, defiant intelligence. "I'll show you. I'll show this 'Author.' I'm not a puppet. And I'm certainly not just a face on a movie poster."
"Also, Sir," Jarvis added. "Regarding the other Tony Starks..."
"Don't," Tony held up a hand. "One crisis at a time, Jarvis. One crisis at a time."