Chapter 84: The Iron Coffin
Ethan slammed the heavy glass doors of the executive suite behind him, letting out a sharp breath. Note to self: don't mess with a professional. Seducing men was her primary business; scouting intelligence was just a secondary hobby.
He shook off the lingering tension, bypassed the main corridors, and marched straight down to the private elevator shaft, taking it directly into Tony's subterranean workshop.
As he entered the lab, he saw Tony busy working on his Mark IV armor. He looked like absolute shit. His skin carried a sickly pallor, his eyes were bloodshot, and it clearly wasn't just from a lack of sleep.
Ethan's eyes landed on a glass of sludge-thick green juice sitting on the workbench. He connected the dots instantly. Palladium poisoning. The very core keeping him alive was actively rotting him from the inside out.
Hearing the movement, Tony turned around, blinking through his exhaustion. "Oh, look, Mr. Gandalf is back. I thought you went back to the Himalayas to meditate on some rocks."
"Funny coming from you," Ethan replied, stepping into the lab light. "Seeing the state of you right now, I think in the next few months I'll be the one scattering your ashes over the Himalayas."
Tony's sarcastic smirk completely vanished. His jaw tightened.
"I warned you, didn't I?" Ethan said, crossing his arms. "That thing in your chest is poisonous."
Tony remembered the vague warnings Ethan had dropped in the desert. He let out a harsh, irritated snarl. "It would have been a hell of a lot more helpful if you had said something clear back then instead of playing cryptic word games."
"Hey, don't blame me," Ethan scoffed. "You should have caught the signs earlier. But you just had to go around playing the shining hero. Has the whole Iron Man persona officially gotten to your head?"
Tony sighed, the anger leaving him as quickly as it came. He walked over to a side table and poured two glasses of scotch, handing one to Ethan.
"Of course I knew," Tony muttered, staring down at his glass. "So what? Playing hero, not playing hero... what difference would it have made anyway? If I take this piece of junk out of my chest, the shrapnel moves and kills me. If I leave it in, the palladium kills me. It's just a matter of time."
Ethan took a sip of the burning liquor, staying silent. It was indeed a structural dead-end. The current medical technology in this era wasn't advanced enough to safely extract the micro-shrapnel embedded near his heart. In the original movies, Tony eventually synthesized a brand-new element by decoding his father's hidden Stark Expo layout. But after watching Gwen Stacy drop out of a multiversal rift and seeing mechanical Rhinos tearing up Brooklyn, Ethan was starting to realize that relying blindly on the original 'plot' was a dangerous game.
Tony looked up at Ethan, a desperate, brilliant light suddenly growing in his eyes. "Can your... 'parlor tricks' fix this? Can you just use your magic to pull the shrapnel out of my chest?"
"Whoa, man, don't even think about it," Ethan said, raising his hands. "I have never used my magic for something that delicate. I have zero background in human biology. One single misstep, one stray spark of Eldritch energy, and your heart gets vaporized. You'll be dead before you hit the floor."
Hearing that, the light in Tony's eyes dimmed instantly. He slumped against the desk, looking entirely defeated.
Ding!
A sharp digital chime echoed in Ethan's mind, followed by the immediate manifestation of a translucent blue holographic window right in front of his face.
[ Main Quest Triggered: The Iron Coffin ]
Objective: Tony Stark is dying of heavy metal poisoning. Keep the billionaire alive.
Reward: 3,000 System Points, Natasha Romanoff's Private Photo Collection.
Damn. Natasha's private collection? Ethan thought, his eyes lighting up. Those things cost a whopping 1,000 points in the System mall! The Gacha machine had scammed him out of an Omnitrix earlier, but it knew exactly how to reel him back in. Alright, System. I guess I have to take matters into my own hands.
Ethan took another slow sip of his scotch, setting the glass down with a deliberate click. "Well, I can't safely pull the shrapnel out... but I do have another idea."
Tony perked up, his genius brain instantly tuning back in. "What is it?"
"Replace the core element of your arc reactor," Ethan said simply.
Tony made a deeply disgusted face, rolling his eyes. "Wow. Brilliant. Do you honestly think a genius like me didn't think of that? I have tried every single existing element on the periodic table, Ethan. None of them can replicate the energy output without the toxic degradation. Palladium is the only option."
"Then create a new one," Ethan countered.
"Hah! Look at you," Tony mocked, a bitter laugh escaping him. "As if creating a stable, undiscovered element is just child's play. I think you mages seriously need to add some basic science classes to your holy curriculum."
Ethan wasn't even offended. If this had been yesterday, Dumbledore's purely magical brain might have been stumped by the insult. But now? With the 10% Ben Tennyson template unlocked, he possessed a vast, innate understanding of intergalactic technology. Benjamin Tennyson—aside from being a loud-mouthed teenager—had years of Plumber training and exposure to Level-20 alien technology floating around in his head.
Ethan chuckled, swirling his scotch. "You'd be surprised by the depth of my scientific knowledge, Stark. But we don't have time to debate who has the bigger brain. Let's go meet a guy who already has the precise clues to save your life."
Tony blinked. "Oh yeah? Where?"
"Well, you'll find out soon enough," Ethan smirked. "But before we go, why don't you call down your newest corporate recruit?"
Tony furrowed his brow, completely sidetracked. "Which recruit? Stark Industries hires hundreds of people a day."
"Oh, you know... the incredibly sexy one," Ethan grinned, leaning back against the workbench. "What was her fake name again? Yeah. Natalie."
Tony's expression softened into a knowing, billionaire grin. "Ah... her. I have to admit, you have an exceptional eye, Merlin. But I am absolutely not in the mood for flirting right now, and she is quite a feisty girl."
Ethan gave him a flat, deadpan look. "What the fuck are you thinking about? I'm not trying to set up a double date. Just call her down here. You'll see."
Tony shrugged, tapping his desk console. "Natalie, can you step down to the workshop for a moment?"
A few moments later, the reinforced doors slid open. Natasha Romanoff walked into the subterranean lab, her face a flawless mask of professional obedience. "You called, boss?"
Tony looked at Ethan, silently waiting for the grand reveal.
Ethan slowly turned around, leaning against the main console, and locked his eyes onto the undercover spy. "Natalie... why don't you call your actual boss and tell him we're about to pay him a little surprise visit?"
Tony froze, looking between them. "What are you talking about? I am her boss. I sign her paychecks." He was thoroughly confused.
But Natasha wasn't. The corporate, pleasant secretary facade instantly vanished from her face, replaced by a cold, calculating stillness. She realized immediately that Ethan had fully pulled back her curtain. She didn't offer a clumsy denial; instead, she quietly reached into her pocket, pulled out a secure S.H.I.E.L.D. communicator, and made a quick, direct phone call.
Tony stood in the center of his own lab, looking completely left out of the loop. "Wait... what is happening right now? Who is she calling?"
Natasha lowered the device, her green eyes locking onto Ethan with a sharp, professional edge. "Director Fury will be waiting for you."
Tony blinked, his gaze snapping to Natasha. "Director? Who—you know what? You're fired."
Natasha offered him a cool, entirely unbothered glance. "You don't get to decide that, Mr. Stark."
Ethan burst into a loud, booming bark of laughter at Tony's completely stunned, comical reaction.
"Alright, buckle up, iron man," Ethan grinned, stepping forward and spinning his fingers in a sharp, practiced circle.
A thunderous cascade of golden-orange sparks erupted in the middle of the ultra-sleek, high-tech lab, tearing open a massive portal. Instead of a flying fortress, the gateway revealed the cold, sterile steel and bulletproof glass of a highly classified, subterranean S.H.I.E.L.D. black site.
Heavily armed agents on the other side immediately raised their weapons at the magical breach, the laser sights cutting through the air. But standing at the back of the room, completely unbothered by the glowing rift in space, was a tall, dark-skinned man in a long black trench coat, his single eye fixed intently on Ethan.
Ethan gestured toward the swirling gateway with a dramatic sweep of his arm. "After you, "Natalie"."
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