Tony turned and headed for the door.
Hawk arched a brow, chuckled, and fell in beside him.
Soon,
they left the room holding Hawk's Cloth, passed through a corridor, then took a right into another chamber—walls sheathed in silvery panels, the whole place done up like a sleek, futuristic lab.
The next second,
Hawk's gaze locked onto the outfit mounted on a mannequin at the far end of the room.
At a glance—
the suit was entirely silver.
Its faceplate echoed the mask of Hawk's Phoenix Cloth.
Set in the mannequin's chest was a diamond-shaped power core glowing an eerie blue.
The silhouette—
looked exactly like a mashup of Hawk's Cloth and Tony Stark's Iron Man armor.
A chimera?
Two S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists were testing around this stitched-together silver suit that seemed half Phoenix Cloth, half Iron Man.
Tony lifted his wrist and tapped his watch, firing a projection into the air in front of them.
A surveillance clip popped up.
Still in this underground complex—likely a test bay—a burly, barrel-chested guy with a thick beard, under the help of several techs, climbed into a suit identical to the silver set before them.
In moments,
the bearded man was fully suited up. He nodded that he was ready. The diamond core in the chest began to glow.
The next second,
a strangled scream tore from his throat—and with a wet pop he seemed to compress all at once.
Blood mist geysered from every seam. The silver suit clanged to the floor, empty.
As for the bearded man—gone.
Watching the clip, Hawk raised a brow. With a swish, he blinked to the mannequin and set his good right hand upon the silver armor's chest.
The two scientists jumped at Hawk's sudden appearance.
Tony joined them then, eyeing Hawk's sling on the left and his right palm on the armor. "J.A.R.V.I.S. recovered that footage from what they thought they'd wiped."
Hawk took his hand away and offered a blunt verdict: "Looks smart, but actually stupid."
Smart, because HYDRA had clearly poured effort into "replicating" his Cloth.
They'd realized a bare copy of the shell wouldn't produce the kind of energy Hawk's Cloth has.
So they borrowed the idea of a compact power core—like the Arc Reactor that drives Tony's armor.
Except…
that chest core wasn't an Arc Reactor.
It was vibranium energy—
the kind Wakandan tech extracts from vibranium.
As for stupid:
one sentence—
the energy density of vibranium is enormous.
Put it this way:
Hawk immediately saw the play.
HYDRA wanted to substitute vibranium energy for the Cloth's cosmos link, to drive this suit and grant it fearsome power.
But—
vibranium energy is monstrous.
You've seen Wakanda—they isolate vibranium energy release in dedicated chambers.
HYDRA somehow thought mortal flesh could brute-force that flow. There's only one outcome.
Exactly what happened to the bearded test subject in the video.
Not even a full second after "activation," the energy ripped him to shreds.
That's why Hawk called the idea both "clever" and "dumb."
Tony understood the point, but eyed the armor, curious. "If you could perfectly integrate the suit with vibranium energy, how would it compare to your Cloth?"
"Compared to my Cloth?"
Hawk glanced at him, thought a beat, and answered straight. "Against my first Cloth… maybe sixty percent—if someone could actually wear this silver suit."
"But you don't think anyone can?"
"No."
Hawk nodded, then seemed to think of something and added, "Steve might. He's had the Super Soldier Serum. His physique might just about handle it. You? No. If you try it, trust me—you'll end up like Mr. Beard."
This, delivered dead serious, was to stop his future bespoke Cloth-smith from getting himself killed.
Because Tony Stark was earmarked as that Cloth-smith.
In Hawk's future plans, all the standard Cloth sets in his universe—Bronze, Silver tiers and the like—would be commissioned to Tony.
But his personal Cloth—no.
For his true Phoenix Gold Cloth, Hawk's chosen smith was the Dwarf King.
Yes—
the one who forged Mjölnir, Stormbreaker, and the Infinity Gauntlet—a master among masters.
Everyone knows:
if the Dwarf King made it, it's a masterpiece.
So…
Hawk fully intended to have him craft the Phoenix Gold Cloth.
No rush, though.
His microcosmos hadn't peaked, and he had no foothold yet on the Seventh Sense. Going now would only yield a second-rate product.
With that in mind—and after warning Tony off a Darwin Award—Hawk lost interest, shook his head, and said, "I thought you had something to show me. If it's just this, I'm going back."
His imperial "injured-king" experience card totaled a hundred days.
He'd paid for it with a busted arm.
Meaning:
he should be in bed right now, not here staring at scrap metal with Tony.
Yes—
scrap metal.
He'd only said "sixty percent of my Cloth" if someone could wear it—measured against his first suit, the one that broke.
And that first Cloth?
He wore it right after awakening his microcosmos—before he'd even opened his Sixth Sense.
Right now…
if you compare this thing to the Black Phoenix Surplice sitting in the Underworld Sanctuary—
heh.
Put it this way:
the Surplice's aura alone could crush this chimera to powder.
So…
yes, it's junk.
If Alexander Pierce died rather than talk, and Strucker's a smug "no one is immortal, not even you" because of this toy, Hawk had only one thing to say:
What a disappointment.
With a snort, he yawned, spun on his heel, and vanished from Tony's sight.
Tony stared at the spot where Hawk had been, then looked back at the silver suit Hawk had reduced to "scrap metal."
Back on Palm Street,
Gwen was in the bathroom, blow-drying her hair and humming a tune.
She was happy.
Hawk probably wouldn't make it back tonight. She could finally get a full night's rest.
Except…
as she opened the door—hair dry, ready for bed—Hawk was already back, already under the covers, crooking a smile and a finger at her.
"Hi."
"…"
Gwen's smile fell. "Every night? Aren't you tired?"
Hawk shrugged. "I'm not the one doing the work."
"You…"
Gwen fumed, then her eyes turned as an idea came. "My bad—how about you take off the cast? If Tony called in a panic, it must've been urgent. With your arm in a sling, it's inconvenient."
Hawk shook his head. "Nothing major. They just found my Cloth. HYDRA collected the fragments and tried to replicate it."
"Collected… replicated?"
Gwen's eyes lit; the frown vanished. She slid into bed, flipped the quilt up, and stared at him, wide-eyed.
Plainly: spill.
Hawk grinned and gave her the short version—what he'd seen, including HYDRA's silver chimera of his Cloth with Tony's armor, which to him was just scrap metal.
Gwen instinctively lowered her gaze to her neck.
Bare.
She blinked, then remembered, hopped out of bed barefoot, ducked back into the bathroom, and returned with the Andromeda Cloth necklace.
"Like this?"
"No way."
Hawk blinked, then sighed at her. "If someone really could wear that trash, you wouldn't even need me. Put on Andromeda and one Nebula Chain would KO them."
Gwen's Andromeda Cloth used the same base materials as the first-generation Cloths—
but—
again,
Hawk's first Cloth was forged in his microcosmos' infancy.
He forged Gwen's Andromeda with his Sixth Sense—at Silver level—and the Andromeda Nebula is currently rotating, slow and steady, within his Silver Phoenix microcosmos.
Reassured by Hawk's disdain, Gwen set the necklace on the nightstand and flopped down again.
"Alright, sleep."
"Hey."
Hawk wasn't fooled by the topic change. He eyed his fiancée, who had shut her eyes to bluff it out—
when Gwen suddenly opened them, as if reminded of something. "Right, Grandpa wants you to visit over winter break. He wants to meet you."
"…"
(End of Chapter)
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