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The implantation of Cyberware into the spine was merely the opening act. To fully weaponize the Sandevistan neural operating system, a host of auxiliary implants were required to prevent the body from tearing itself apart under the sheer G-force of accelerated movement.
Reinforced tendons were a necessity to amplify raw physical power, while internal circulatory upgrades—auxiliary hearts and bio-monitors—were required to keep the recipient's vitals stable during high-stress combat cycles. However, in Kael's design philosophy, these internal modifications were never meant to stand alone. They were the bridge to the machine: the Exoskeleton.
Kael had no intention of manufacturing a new Adam Smasher in the Marvel Universe. Such a monstrous challenge to Earth's ethical standards would draw the kind of "heroic" intervention he preferred to avoid. Moreover, he knew the risks of mental deterioration; Emil Blonsky was already teetering on the edge. If he ended up with a Cyberpsycho instead of an Abomination, it would be a massive tactical failure.
For Emil, Kael custom-built a simplified "Gorilla" frame. He stripped the complex Arasaka gravity-well generators but optimized the kinetic thrusters with a high-yield rocket-boost system. When Emil suited up, he looked like a three-meter-tall steel juggernaut.
"Neural handshake established..." "Initiating body-calibration... equipment wearer, please cycle primary limb actuators..."
Kael watched from the observation lounge, flipping through a fashion magazine while the lab techs ran the tests. Natasha Romanoff stood beside him, her gaze fixed on the heavy machinery behind the glass. After a long silence, she spoke.
"Boss, I was under the impression that Stark Industries closed its Weapons Division."
"It did," Kael replied casually, not looking up from a spread on this season's evening wear.
"Then what do you call that?" She gestured toward the massive armored arms Emil was currently using to crush reinforced concrete blocks.
"Oh, that? Industrial hardware. I'm planning to revolutionize the construction sector. Moving bricks, clearing rubble... think of the efficiency."
Kael gave himself a mental pat on the back. By reclassifying military-grade Chrome as "Medical Gear" and Exosuits as "Industrial Safety Equipment," he was exploiting the ultimate loophole. In a world ruled by capital, the power to define a product rested with the manufacturer. If you slapped a "restrictive safety patch" on a weapon, who could call it a gun?
"..." Natasha stared at him, trying to gauge if he was truly this cynical.
"Social progress shouldn't be halted by fear, Natalie," Kael lectured, adopting his most earnest "Technical Genius" tone. "Look at my Hammer smartphone. The tabloids say we're monitoring the world, but we've changed how humanity communicates."
Kael's "Hammer" (which Tony had insisted on naming the Stark-Phone or something equally vain) was a global phenomenon. It was the perfect fusion of Night City tech and Marvel marketing.
"Hammer? Didn't Tony call it the Ap—?"
"Don't listen to Tony," Kael snapped, his voice tight with lingering resentment. "To me, it will always be the Hammer."
He'd noted that debt. One day, when Tony was gone, Kael would sit in the Chairman's office, drinking Tony's vintage scotch, and maybe give Tony's future kid a stern talking-to. The thought made him smirk.
Just then, the "Gilded Playboy" himself strolled in. Tony looked different since the Middle East—less frantic, more focused. He smelled of high-end perfume, but for the first time in years, he had emerged from a party without a single "petal" clinging to him. His heart was finally occupied by Pepper Potts.
"I'll go get the coffee," Natasha said, sensing the shift in the room and granting them privacy.
"Your secretary is a gem, Kael. Why haven't you traded her to me yet?" Tony asked, his eyes lingering on Natasha's exit. He wasn't touching other women anymore, but looking wasn't a crime.
"Didn't Pepper find you three new ones?"
"Duds. Every single one," Tony sighed. He sat across from Kael, his face growing solemn. He pulled a digital file from his pocket. "You haven't shown this medical report to anyone else, have you?"
The report had come from Kael's Smart Toilet line. He'd built bio-diagnostic sensors into the luxury units, charging a monthly subscription for AI-driven health analysis. It was a goldmine of data—and it had flagged the palladium poisoning in Tony's blood with terrifying accuracy.
"Dare I tell the world you're a walking dead man?" Kael said, putting a reassuring arm around Tony's shoulder. "Relax. After you're gone, I'll look after Pepper. As your only friend, I'll reluctantly accept the role of primary heir."
"I'm not dead yet!" Tony snapped, though his will to live flared in his eyes.
"You're close. Palladium levels are at thirty percent. But honestly, Tony... let's talk about the real issue. The report says you've got a serious case of kidney deficiency."
"...I am dying, Kael! It's not kidney deficiency! My hardware is fine!" Tony was livid. If this leaked, the news cycle wouldn't be about his heroism; it would be about his stamina. He grabbed Kael by the collar.
"Calm down, Tony. I have a secret remedy from the East. It'll fix you right up."
"...Really?" Tony's grip loosened. He straightened Kael's collar, his voice dropping an octave. "I'm... asking for a friend, obviously."
"Obviously," Kael agreed.
Their conversation was interrupted by Natasha returning with coffee. She had been eavesdropping, and seeing the future of the world's greatest genius devolve into a debate about "kidney health" had forced her to intervene before her report to Nick Fury became too embarrassing to write.
"Stephen Strange was my best bet for the shrapnel surgery," Tony admitted once she left again. "But he's out of the game. A car accident. Hands are shattered. No one else has the steady hands for the job."
"And the Arc Reactor?"
"A dead end. I've tried every element on the periodic table. Nothing can replace the palladium without losing the output."
"Don't worry," Kael said, sliding a data-tablet across the desk. It contained the clinical results of Emil's neural-heart replacement. "At worst, I'll just swap out your heart for a cybernetic one. I've reached the leapfrog stage in bionic integration."
Tony scanned the data, his eyes brightening. "You did this for Blonsky? The rejection rate is... impossible."
"Found a good test subject. Lucky for you."
Tony leaned back, the shadow of death lifting slightly. He scribbled a number on a napkin. "This is the CEO of Victoria's Secret. Her private line."
"You truly are my brother from another mother," Kael chuckled.
The two left the office arm-in-arm, heading for another "research session."
Inside the office, Natasha sat in Kael's chair. She didn't clean the cups. She pulled a S.H.I.E.L.D. decryption drive from her sleeve and slotted it into Kael's terminal. Fury wanted to know where the Iron Monger chassis had gone.
She scoured the local drives, but Kael was too smart to leave the Vajra Titan's blueprints on a corporate network. She found nothing but shipping manifests—except for one suspicious warehouse address on the outskirts of the city.
Natasha noted the coordinates and wiped her digital footprint. The spider was moving deeper into the web.
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