Chapter 64: I Am Iron Man
Early the next morning, Pepper arrived at the venue.
She moved through the space with brisk efficiency, setting up the floor, directing the press as they filtered in.
The start time was closing in fast — and Tony was nowhere to be seen.
Rhodey had noticed too. He walked over, voice dropped low. "Where the hell is Tony? You want me to call him?"
Pepper's brow tightened. She'd already called him. Several times. He wasn't picking up.
She kept her voice level. "It's fine. Tony said he'd be here. He'll be here."
"I've called him a dozen times. He's not answering. But he said he'd be here, so he'll be here." She said it more to herself than to Rhodey.
Privately, she wasn't so sure.
Tony had a track record of ghosting press conferences. Was today going to be another one of those days? And if he didn't show, how was she supposed to run this?
The questions were stacking up faster than she could answer them.
Minutes bled away. The tension in the room kept notching up.
Every seat in the press pit was full now. Cameras, mics, lenses — all aimed at the entrance, waiting for Tony to walk through it. The second he did, they could start.
But he didn't walk through it.
The reporters started murmuring. Heads leaned together. Theories started circulating. You could see the disappointment settling in — Tony Stark was, apparently, going to be Tony Stark.
Pepper's pulse was climbing. She'd never felt pressure like this.
She had to figure something out. Now.
She was on the verge of walking up to the podium herself when —
A deep mechanical roar split the air overhead. Every head in the room tilted back.
A red suit of armor dropped out of the sky and landed, hard, right behind the podium.
The crowd caught its breath. Reporters surged forward, microphones up, shouting over each other.
"Are you the Iron Man people have been talking about?"
Iron Man didn't answer. He just stood there.
The red-plated suit, the arc reactor glowing steady in the chest, the sheer silent presence of the thing — the room was on fire.
"Iron Man — what's your connection to Stark Industries?"
"Do you know Mr. Tony Stark?"
"Are you here in place of Mr. Stark?"
In the crowd, Pepper recognized that armor instantly, and let out a breath she'd been holding for an hour. Of course. Of course this was Tony. He hadn't forgotten the press conference — he was just making the most annoyingly Tony entrance possible.
Rhodey, on the other hand, looked like he was about to have a stroke. He shoved his way to the podium.
"Quiet down, please —" his voice cut across the crowd, and they listened. "We'll have a statement shortly."
He reached for Tony's arm, ready to pull him out of there. Tony was, of course, wearing a powered suit. Rhodey couldn't budge him.
Tony, very clearly, did not want to be pulled out of there.
Rhodey ended up with his hand cupped around where Tony's ear would be, hissing under his breath: "Do not out yourself as Iron Man. You out yourself, the military and every federal agency in D.C. is going to be on your doorstep by dinner."
Rhodey was trying to save him. The minute Tony put his face on that armor, the generals and the suits in Washington were going to demand the schematics. As long as nobody knew who was in the suit, Tony was fine. The moment they knew, they would spend every resource they had trying to own him.
The reporters weren't having it. They kept pushing.
After a beat — the helmet retracted.
The face under it was the most recognizable face in the world.
A crooked, unrepentant smile. A glint of something clever in the eyes.
In this moment, Tony wasn't just a billionaire. Wasn't just a philanthropist. He was the thing the crowd hadn't known they were allowed to hope for — a superhero. Iron Man.
He looked out over the sea of reporters, amused, entirely in control.
Then, in that particular Stark drawl — half swagger, half dare — he delivered the line that was about to rewrite the world:
"I am Iron Man."
The room went silent.
Then, all at once, every reporter in the pit snapped into motion, fingers flying, voices going live. They knew. The moment this hit the wire, the world was going to lose its mind.
Tony let the silence sit for a beat longer. Then the helmet snapped back into place.
Red and gold closed over him again. He looked like he'd been built for it.
He straightened up, eyes forward, jaw set.
A roar — and he was gone, a streak of gold launching through the clouds.
Leaving a baffled Pepper and a horrified Rhodey to face the tidal wave of questions alone.
That night.
Ethan sat at a booth in the Lucky Dragon, a cold beer sweating in his hand, eyes glued to the TV mounted above the bar.
The news was replaying it on loop — the armored man descending from the sky, helmet retracting, delivering the line.
I am Iron Man.
Ethan smiled into his beer. Of course. Of course Tony Stark made his entrance like that. That kind of obnoxious, theatrical, peacock flourish — that was Tony and nobody else.
Classic Stark.
And Ethan knew what it meant. The gears of this universe had just started turning. The big Marvel events were coming. He needed to make friends fast, grow his bench, build his strength.
Somewhere in the back of his head, an idea had been taking shape for a while now — his own team. A squad that could stand next to the Avengers. Something that belonged to Hell's Kitchen.
On the other side of the booth, Wade had been watching Tony's big moment too. And he was inspired.
He peeled off his red mask, struck what he clearly believed was an extremely handsome pose, and dropped his voice into his lowest register:
"I am Deadpool."
He looked up at Pietro and Wanda, expectant. "How about it? Am I hot?"
Pietro gave him the flattest, most disappointed look in his arsenal.
Wanda didn't even look up. Didn't even pretend he was in the room.
Ethan watched it all unfold and tried very hard not to laugh.
Somewhere in the void between dimensions.
A bald sorcerer stood face-to-face with a knight in crimson armor.
"Outsider. This is not a place you should be." The Ancient One's voice was calm, steady.
The crimson knight muttered, mostly to himself, "Power level in this universe is nasty. Next time I'm bringing the old man with me."
He could feel several other presences in this universe — signatures that ran past the bald sorcerer in front of him. Way past. Better to come back with backup.
He raised his right hand. A silver rift opened in the air beside him. He stepped through. He was gone.
The Ancient One watched the strange crimson figure vanish.
"Earth is getting a lot of visitors these days. I think it's time I paid it a visit."
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