The atmosphere at the event was electrifying, a festival of flashing lights, roaring applause, and champagne-filled celebrations. At the center of it all stood Tony Stark, the man everyone adored, the brightest star in the room. Countless eyes locked onto him with admiration, envy, and curiosity.
Yet, Nolan Locke did not spare Tony so much as a glance.
What was so interesting about watching another man preen under the spotlight? To Nolan, there were far better sights tonight beautiful women, and there were plenty of them. The kind of beauty that gleamed brighter than the chandeliers overhead.
Trailing reluctantly behind him was Sharon Carter, officially his personal secretary, unofficially his constant reminder to behave like a professional. Her expression betrayed her irritation, though she followed anyway, heels clicking against the marble floor.
"Boss," she finally said, her patience fraying, "you didn't come here just to ogle women, did you? With your wealth and influence, all it would take is one word, and you'd have more women than you know what to do with. Why waste time playing the wolf here?"
Nolan tilted his head, casting her a sidelong glance. The corner of his lips lifted into a teasing smirk.
"Is that so? Funny thing, though. Despite all that influence, I've never managed to get you into my bed."
The words hit Sharon like a jab to the chest. Her breath caught, her eyes flashing. Damn Nolan Locke. He always knew exactly how to unsettle her.
Satisfied with her silence, Nolan let out a low chuckle. Hook, line, sinker. He had spent enough time studying human nature to recognize the shift in her expression. She could fume all she wanted, but she hadn't walked away. That was promising enough.
His gaze lingered briefly on her figure, the elegant but practical cut of her dress, the subtle allure she tried so hard to mask. Nolan's eyes gleamed with anticipation. There was an old saying: the highest form of victory is to subdue the enemy without a fight. If Natasha Romanoff remained beyond his reach, then Sharon Carter capable but less guarded was another challenge he fully intended to conquer.
Just then, the calm voice of the Red Queen slipped into his earpiece.
"Sir, I've located the target."
Nolan's smile sharpened. Turning to Sharon, he said casually, "Carter, be a dear and fetch me some ice cream. Something cold."
Sharon arched an eyebrow at the strange request but didn't press further. With a dismissive shake of her head, she walked off, muttering under her breath. Nolan, guided by the Red Queen's instructions, made his way to a quieter corner of the venue.
In the shadows, away from the dazzling lights of the main event, Ivan Vanko worked feverishly, his hands steady despite the tremor of anticipation beneath his skin. Wires sparked as he completed the final adjustments to his prototype.
It was then that he noticed someone approaching.
The man was young, confident, carrying himself with a poise that demanded attention. His smile was warm, almost friendly, but his eyes told another story. Clear, sharp, unclouded by doubt a man who knew exactly what he wanted and how to take it.
Ivan instinctively hunched his shoulders, concealing the exoskeleton hidden beneath his oversized coat. He lowered his gaze, hoping to avoid unnecessary attention. But as they passed, the stranger spoke.
"Hello, Ivan Vanko. Nice to finally meet you. I'd love to say this encounter is pleasant, but I'm afraid you won't think so."
Ivan froze. His head snapped up, eyes narrowing. Recognition hit him like a thunderbolt.
Nolan Locke. One of the world's foremost experts in advanced mechanics and technology.
Why would a man of his caliber even know his name?
Forcing a surprised smile, Ivan muttered, "Mr. Locke, I never expected you to recognize me." His voice carried an undertone of wariness, though he tried to mask it with humility.
Nolan's expression hardened, his smirk fading into cool seriousness. "I hate wasting time, and I hate unnecessary trouble even more. So let's skip the pleasantries. You want to kill Tony Stark, don't you?"
The question hit Ivan like a punch to the gut. His heartbeat faltered, breath catching in his throat. He had told no one of his true intentions. No one.
And yet this man stood here, casually laying his secret bare.
Ivan's eyes flickered with sudden hostility, sharp and predatory. "And what makes you so sure of that?" His tone was low, dangerous. He wasn't denying it. In his mind, Nolan Locke was already a dead man.
But Nolan remained unshaken, his calmness infuriating.
"I know more than you think. I know the truth about your father and Howard Stark. You believe your father created the arc reactor, that the Stark family stole his genius and left him to die in despair. To Tony, though, the arc reactor was his father's triumph, the pride of the Stark legacy. You both believe you're right. But tell me, Ivan where's your proof?"
He leaned closer, voice sharp with challenge. "You don't have any. Even now, Tony doesn't know the full story. If you kill him, you won't be avenging anything. You'll just be killing a man ignorant of your pain. Tell me, does that sound like justice? Or just blind hatred?"
Ivan's face twisted with fury.
"If not for the Stark family, my father would still be alive! Depression didn't kill him Howard Stark did! Even if he's rotting in his grave, I'll kill Tony Stark to settle the score!"
With a furious snarl, Ivan ripped open his coat.
There it was: a glowing miniature arc reactor embedded in his chest. His own design. His own genius.
For a moment, Nolan's gaze sharpened with interest. He had to admit, Ivan was brilliant. Tony had only managed to miniaturize the arc reactor under the pressure of imminent death, but Ivan had done it through sheer determination and talent. He might not match Stark's brilliance, but there was no doubt he was still among the top minds in the world.
Unfortunately, his brilliance was shackled by vengeance.
Nolan sighed. What a waste.
The whips flared to life with a crackle of energy as Ivan unleashed his creation. The heat scorched his coat to ash, leaving the gleaming exoskeleton exposed.
"Die!" Ivan roared, lashing the energy whip with explosive force.
Nolan reacted instantly. His Delta-6 power suit snapped into place around his body, a design refined and enhanced through countless upgrades. Combined with his superhuman physique, it propelled him with blistering speed. In a blur, he sidestepped the whip, the ground sizzling where it struck.
Then, with a surge of power, he launched forward. His fist crashed into Ivan's chestplate with bone-rattling force, sending the man staggering back, choking on the impact.
Nolan didn't press the attack. Instead, he asked coolly, "Have you calmed down yet?"
Ivan's teeth ground together as humiliation burned through him. He had known Nolan Locke was strong, but this? This was overwhelming. With a growl of frustration, he turned and fled into the shadows.
Nolan blinked in surprise. He ran? A vengeful man turning his back so easily? Either Ivan was more pragmatic than he appeared, or he had a card yet to play. Nolan couldn't help but smirk. Interesting.
Moments later, Ivan reached a hidden warehouse. A truck's cargo bay hissed open, revealing a hulking exosuit within. This was no half-finished prototype. This was his real weapon.
Climbing inside, Ivan activated the system. Lights flared in the machine's eyes, its power humming with raw energy. Confidence surged through him. Now he was ready. Now he was unstoppable.
Nolan stepped through the doorway just in time to see the massive armor rise, its bulk casting a looming shadow.
Instead of alarm, Nolan's lips curled into a grin.
"Now that's more like it."
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