After Tony concluded his explosive press conference, he all but vanished from the public eye. No one knew where he had gone, what he was doing, or whether he even cared about the chaos he had unleashed. Reporters camped outside Stark Industries, analysts argued endlessly on financial channels, and shareholders watched the stock charts with growing dread.
All attention quickly shifted to Stark Industries Group.
What became clear very quickly was that Tony's announcement had not been a publicity stunt or a moment of madness. He was truly serious about shutting down the weapons division, and more importantly, he had already begun executing that decision. Entire departments were restructured, senior executives were reassigned, and countless employees found themselves transferred or placed under review.
It was nothing short of a corporate earthquake.
Stock prices tumbled. Investor confidence plummeted. Media headlines turned ruthless. Even longtime supporters of Stark Industries openly questioned whether Tony had finally lost his mind.
Once, Tony Stark had been celebrated as a genius.
Now, he was labeled a dangerous lunatic.
Speculation ran wild. Many believed Tony had been mentally broken during his kidnapping—locked away, tortured, pushed to the brink. Otherwise, why would a man willingly dismantle the most profitable arm of his own empire?
Tony offered no explanations.
No future roadmap.
No reassurance.
He allowed public doubt and ridicule to ferment unchecked.
But Pepper knew better.
She was painfully aware that while the world mocked him, Tony was quietly buying back shares, snapping up scattered stock at rock-bottom prices. This wasn't recklessness—it was deliberate. Calculated.
Still, watching news anchors ridicule Tony night after night gnawed at her. She knew his personality better than anyone—flamboyant, arrogant, proud. And she feared that even if he didn't show it, the constant pressure might still hurt him.
In recent days, Tony had barely left his workshop. He no longer partied. He no longer sought attention. Instead, he buried himself in machines, tools, and schematics.
The Middle East had changed him.
The old Tony would have never tolerated solitude. Yet now, he endured it almost effortlessly. That alone unsettled Pepper more than anything else.
She suspected—deep down—that Tony truly had suffered unspeakable torment during his captivity.
But she couldn't ask.
Some wounds were too deep to touch.
---
A Change of Hearts
"Pepper, come down for a moment…"
Tony's voice crackled through the intercom.
After days of nonstop work, he had finally completed the Mark II Arc Reactor, a refined and stable upgrade that would replace the crude prototype embedded in his chest.
When Pepper entered the room, she found Tony lying back in a chair, stripped of his usual bravado. As they spoke—really spoke—something quiet and unspoken formed between them.
A fragile intimacy.
Ironically, it was Tony—the legendary playboy—who grew nervous first. He avoided her gaze, his thoughts unsteady. For the first time, he realized that what he felt wasn't casual attraction.
It was love.
And that terrified him.
Chasing women had always been easy. Loving one person wasn't. It was unfamiliar territory—one Tony instinctively wanted to avoid.
Besides, he had no time.
Obadiah still loomed in the shadows.
And the Mark II suit awaited completion.
Though he never admitted it aloud, Tony carried deep psychological scars from his imprisonment. The iron suit, cold and unyielding, had become his armor not just physically—but emotionally.
Inside it, he felt safe.
---
James and the Quiet Advantage
Compared to Tony, James appeared far more relaxed.
He understood Obadiah far too well.
There was no chance Obadiah would genuinely support shutting down the weapons division. This chaos was simply a convenient excuse—one he used to purge dissenters and shift all responsibility onto Tony's shoulders.
The internal power struggle didn't affect James at all.
To both sides, he was considered "one of us."
The only real inconvenience was the temporary shutdown of the smart weapons factory—a project James had invested enormous effort into building.
But Obadiah couldn't openly oppose Tony yet. Stark Industries was, at its core, a family empire. Without overwhelming shareholder support, Obadiah couldn't dislodge Tony from power.
Most directors still believed Tony was merely acting out and would "snap back" eventually.
That belief was exactly what Obadiah intended to exploit.
He needed the fire Tony lit to burn hotter—until it consumed him.
---
Worries on the Factory Floor
"Boss, aren't you worried at all?"
Martin leaned forward, watching James calmly assemble components as if nothing in the world had changed.
"Worried about what?"
James didn't even look up.
"The weapons division is shutting down! What about us? I don't want to get laid off!"
Martin's dark face was filled with anxiety. He had barely been with the company a year. Severance wouldn't be generous. Some coworkers were already quietly job-hunting.
Low morale was contagious.
Fortunately, the smart factory was complete. With f.r.i.d.a.y. assisting him, James no longer relied heavily on manpower.
Still, he chose to reassure Martin.
"If we can't make weapons," James said calmly, "we'll make something else."
"Like what?" Martin asked eagerly.
James replied with complete seriousness,
"Smart toilets."
"…What?"
"Think about it. Everyone needs one. Way more potential than weapons."
Martin froze.
Then, disturbingly, he nodded.
"…That actually makes sense."
James smirked slightly.
"Relax. Even if the weapons division closes, other departments will absorb the project. You're not losing your job. Now come help me."
Relieved, Martin stepped forward—only to nearly collapse under the weight of the component James handed him.
"What the hell is this thing?! It's insanely heavy!"
James said nothing.
The square mechanical block was an improved gravity-control module, designed for kinetic amplification and direct integration into an exoskeleton frame. Modular. Expandable. Brutally efficient.
Inspired by cybernetic implants and titan-class concepts, it wouldn't allow flight like Tony's armor—but combined with kinetic propulsion, it enabled terrifying ground mobility.
Future upgrades were already planned: energy shields, vortex barriers, defensive arrays.
All it needed now… was power.
---
Technology Without Limits
Later testing confirmed James's suspicions.
There were no fundamental conflicts between Cyberpunk technology and Marvel-era physics. Most systems integrated seamlessly.
The only missing piece was an energy core.
Titan batteries were beyond his current capability. Cyberpunk bio-energy systems required massive agricultural and industrial infrastructure.
That left only one viable solution.
Tony's Arc Reactor.
Tricky—but achievable.
With f.r.i.d.a.y.'s assistance, James had secretly constructed a vast underground complex beneath the factory. Efficient. Hidden. Beautifully engineered.
No audits.
No paper trails.
No witnesses.
Unless Tony devoted J.A.R.V.I.S.'s full processing power, no one would ever notice.
---
A Call That Changes Everything
Just as James prepared to continue underground testing, his phone rang.
It was Pepper.
"Nuo—James… do you have time right now?"
"I'll be there."
The bar was quiet. Tony was already waiting.
"This is our first real meeting," Tony said, pouring him a drink.
"The smart pistol you designed? Brilliant."
James smiled faintly.
"Too bad the weapons division is closing."
Tony laughed.
"That doesn't mean your AI is unemployed. I'm forming an Artificial Intelligence Department. We're going to change the world."
"Smart toilets?"
"…Why do you keep coming back to that?"
---
The Real Request
Tony leaned forward, his tone serious.
"I need your help."
"I'm listening."
"I want you to access my office system. Get all shipping manifests. Everything connected to Obadiah."
"Why me?" James asked calmly.
"Because I trust you."
That sentence carried weight.
"I'll do it," James said. "But you owe me."
Tony shrugged.
"I already owe you my life."
He slid a chip across the table.
"Be fast. Obadiah's about to make his move."
"Understood."
James stood, turned, and walked out.
The game had finally begun.
-------------------------------------------
Extra chapters available on patreon
patreon.com/Samurai492
__________________________________