[Hellfire Club – 3:30 AM]
The lounge was quiet except for the low crackle of a fireplace and the faint clink of ice in glasses. The room smelled of smoke and aged whiskey, velvet curtains muffling the world outside. Tony sat back on a leather chair, his tie loosened, one arm resting on the armrest, a glass of whiskey in his hand.
Across from him, Emma looked perfectly composed in her white dress, a crystal flute of champagne poised between two fingers.
"You see," Emma said, swirling her glass, "the families thought they could adapt. But thanks to your information network, I pressed the right minds. Nudged, fractured, seeded paranoia where they were weakest. Then Frank hit them at the pressure points. Warehouses, safehouses, cash vaults, smuggling corridors. The result was inevitable."
Tony raised his glass, the faintest smirk on his lips. "Divide and conquer. Old playbook. But when it works, it works." He took a sip. "Now they're scared, which means they're predictable. Calling back every soldier, every stray piece of muscle, and putting them all under one umbrella. One leader. All the eggs in one basket."
Emma's smile was sharp. "Wilson Fisk. The Kingpin. Consolidated power. The only way he could hope to withstand what's coming."
Tony leaned forward, setting the glass down on the table between them. He grinned with a satisfied side nod. "Like fish in a barrel."
The doors to the lounge opened, and Frank Castle stepped in. His eyes scanned the room once, then locked on Tony and Emma.
"Castle," Emma said smoothly, her voice a blade wrapped in velvet. "Perfect timing. We were just discussing the next tumor that needs cutting out."
"Finished cleaning up," Frank said flatly as he walked forward until he stood at the edge of the table, rain still dripping off his armor.
Tony glanced up at him, then tipped his head toward the bar. "Grab a drink."
The bartender slid a glass across the polished counter. Frank caught it without looking, the amber liquid barely rippling as he sat down on the couch opposite Tony and Emma. He drank once, set it down heavily, and leaned forward with both elbows on his knees. His eyes never left them.
Tony gave him a slow nod. "First off, thanks. You've been busy. Streets are cleaner. Crime families are running scared. New York owes you more than it'll ever admit." He leaned back in his chair, swirling the last of his whiskey. "But now comes the hard part."
Frank's jaw tightened. "Say it."
Tony set the glass aside and steepled his hands. "The Owl. Owlsley. He's dug in Midtown, hiding behind cash and freaks with real power. He's not just a problem; he's leverage. You want him dead, I get it. But we need him alive. Capture him. Deliver him to Emma. She'll pull every secret he's got out of his head."
Frank clenched his fists and said, "You know what that bastard did. My family. Years he's been hiding. You expect me to sit on my hands?"
Emma leaned forward, her voice silk over steel. "Your hands will do plenty. But the Owl is tied to something larger. The Hand. He's their conduit, their banker, their middleman. Kill him now, and the trail goes cold. Bring him to me, and I'll rip every name, every account, every hidden stronghold out of his mind. Then… you can have him. Whole or in pieces. I don't care."
Frank sat in silence, his shoulders rigid. He reached for his glass, finished it, then set it down harder than he needed to. "After you're done… he's mine."
Tony pointed a finger at him like a man sealing a contract. "After Emma's done, he's all yours. No fine print. You want revenge, you'll get it. But we need the intel first."
Frank gave a single sharp nod. "Fine."
Tony exhaled and tapped one finger on the table. Silver liquid poured from the tip, spreading in a thin line before rising and folding in on itself. The nanites spun and locked until they solidified into a simple matte-black ring. Tony pushed it across the table.
"Put it on," He said. "Then say it. Suit up."
Frank picked up the ring. It was cold, heavier than it looked. He slipped it onto his finger.
The moment he said the words, "Suit up," the nanites surged to life. They crawled across his hand, racing up his arm like liquid steel, wrapping him in black plates within seconds. The chest sealed last, the skull emblem forming and then igniting with a white glow.
The HUD activated before his eyes.
[Punisher MK 1: Online]
Tony gave a small, smug grin. "Not bad, huh? This isn't your average Kevlar and duct tape. That suit recalibrates itself in real time depending on the situation. Think of it as every loadout you ever wished you had, already built in."
Frank flexed his hands, watching the black plating ripple with a subtle shimmer as it adjusted. "Feels light."
"It should. Nanites adjust density. You want to move like a ghost; it goes stealth mode, which makes you completely invisible and soundless. You want to tear through a barricade, it goes into brute mode. Strength amplification, hydraulic reinforcement. You'll rip a tank open like a sardine can." Tony explained.
Frank looked at his HUD as multiple Mode options appeared.
"Weapons?" He asked.
Tony held up a finger. "Lethal and non-lethal. Crowd control, energy pulses, taser nets, shockwave cannons. On the flip side, you've got armor-piercing rounds, micro-missiles, plasma cutters. Basically, you can choose between leaving bodies on the floor or just leaving broken bones behind. Just think what you want. The suit responds to it."
Two options appeared before his HUD. He chose lethal mode and thought of selecting an automatic rifle. The nanites shifted, forming an automatic rifle in his hands.
[Plasma Rifle]
"That's the plasma rifle. One shot is enough to burn a hole through a tank," Tony said as he took a sip of whiskey.
Emma's eyes glimmered with quiet amusement. "Try to keep a few alive, Frank. Just long enough for me to read them."
Tony ignored her and kept going. "Healing nanites are in there too. They'll stabilize you if you're bleeding out. You can also heal others. Suit's atmosphere-sealed, nuclear-proof, and if you feel like taking a walk in space, it'll handle that too. Choose space exploration mode and take a spin around the Earth or Moon. Oh, and casual mode. Tell it to relax, it'll form plain clothes. Jeans, jacket, whatever you want. Everything is customisable. Good for when you don't want to scare the neighbors."
Frank slowly rolled a shoulder, the plates shifting like muscle. His voice was low, steady. "Drones?"
Tony pointed at him with his glass. "You've got a swarm on command. Recon, combat, sabotage. Small enough to slip through vents, strong enough to carry explosives if you need. They'll feed you live intel and run decoys. They can even create a holographic model of you to act as a decoy. You'll never walk into a blind corner again."
The glowing skull on Frank's chest flared slightly as the HUD cycled through different loadouts. Stealth mode flickered, making him blur like a shadow. Brute mode bulked the plating for a second before slimming down again. A brief flash of casual mode wrapped him in the image of a dark jacket and jeans before it dissolved back into armor.
Frank looked at Tony, then Emma, then down at himself. He said nothing for a long moment.
Finally, he spoke. "Thank you for trusting me with this."
"No need to thank me. Thanks to you two, I don't have to worry about the streets. I can focus more on other important matters. Now, we'll move in a week. Till then," Tony said as he flicked his fingers. Before Frank's HUD, a map appeared with a red dot. "Get used to the suit. Practice a bit. After that, you'll go after Owl and we'll go after Kingpin. We'll end them in a single night."
...
[Central Park – 7:45 AM]
Morning light broke through the canopy of trees, streaks of gold cutting across the paths of Central Park. Tony and Natasha jogged side by side. Yelena wanted to join in, but she had to go to the Starfire base to investigate the sudden energy spikes and disappearance of an entire team of archaeologists. Johnny and Ben decided to tag along. As for Sue, she and a team from NASA went to the Moon base to set things up.
Coming to the present...
It was one of the few rare mornings when neither of them had to rush to a briefing, fix a reactor, or kill an alien threat. Just silence, the occasional bark of a dog, and the quiet luxury of pretending they were normal.
"Feels weird," Tony said, looking at Nat. "Running like a civilian. It feels like ages since I went out on a run."
Natasha smirked. "You're keeping up without your cosmic power, so I'd say you're not completely hopeless."
"Keeping up? I'm pacing you." He grinned. "Big difference."
Before she could reply, the sound of engines cut across the morning calm. Sirens blared. Tires screeched. Both of them stopped at the edge of the path as an armored truck barreled down the adjacent street, swerving hard, almost clipping a lamppost. The windshield was spiderwebbed with cracks, and two police cruisers followed close behind, their lights flashing. Gunfire erupted from the back doors of the truck, sparks flying as bullets clipped the cruisers.
Tony groaned, rubbing his temple. "Why do I even try to have nice mornings?"
Natasha had already tapped her wristwatch, a holographic display flickering to life. "Bank heist. Five suspects. Armed. Vehicle's modified. Haa... They never learn, do they?"
Tony was about to suit up. "Fine, let's end this quick."
Then something caught his eye.
A blur of red swung in from above, flipping through the air like a gymnast. Thin white strands snapped into view, sticking to traffic lights and building edges. In the span of seconds, the figure swung low, landed on the roof of the armored truck, and clung there.
The guy wore a makeshift red suit, more like a stitched-together hoodie with a mask than actual gear. The eyes on the mask were big and white.... Completely homemade.
Natasha's fingers danced across her holographic display, scanning the figure. Her brow furrowed. "There's no record. No registered metahuman license. Nothing." She looked at Tony. "A new mutant?"
...[POWERSTONES AND REVIEWS]...
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