For Tony Stark, the revelation was a double-edged sword.
Knowing his story had an ending—a definitive, final curtain call—was sobering. He was mortal. He wouldn't live forever. But knowing that his ending was legendary? That he would stand "shoulder to shoulder with gods" and define an entire era?
That was the kind of validation money couldn't buy.
"If I'm going to face gods," Tony muttered, staring at his reflection in the lab monitor, "then steel isn't enough. Titanium isn't enough. I need to build something transcendent."
"We need to accelerate the Nanotech research," he ordered Jarvis. "If the threat level is cosmic, then solid plates are archaic. I need armor that can bleed, heal, and adapt."
"Adding 'Nanotechnology' to the Mark Series roadmap, Sir," Jarvis confirmed.
Tony nodded, his mind already five years ahead, visualizing the bleeding-edge tech of the Mark 50.
"Let the future come," Tony whispered. "I'll be ready."
Meanwhile, in Queens.
Lucas Chen had no idea he was inspiring the next generation of military hardware. He was just a guy sitting on a cheap sofa, staring at a floating holographic wheel.
Seven days. Seven diary entries. That was the requirement.
"System," Lucas said, rubbing his hands together. "Show me the money. Daddy needs a new pair of superpowers."
"Seven consecutive check-ins confirmed," the System's voice echoed in his mind. "One Lottery Draw available. Activate now?"
"Hit it!"
The wheel spun. It was a blur of colors and text, listing everything from Asgardian Mead(useless) to Infinity Gauntlet (game-breaking). Lucas held his breath, his heart hammering against his ribs.
Please don't be trash. Please don't be a frying pan.
The wheel slowed. It ticked past Hawkeye's Bowsmanship... past Black Widow's Martial Arts... and landed squarely on a shimmering, silver segment.
[Reward: Man of Steel Physique (Initial Stage)]
Lucas blinked. Then he leaped off the sofa, punching the air.
"Yes! Jackpot! Absolute jackpot!"
Man of Steel. Superman. The Last Son of Krypton.
It was the Holy Grail of superhero power sets. Flight. Invulnerability. Heat Vision. Super Speed. In the DC Universe, Superman was a god among men. In the MCU? Without Kryptonite to weaken him? He would be unstoppable.
"Wait," Lucas paused, reading the fine print. "Initial Stage?"
"System, clarify. What does 'Initial Stage' mean? Am I Superman or not?"
"Reward extracted. Commencing biological restructuring."
Pain.
It wasn't a gentle glow. It was a sledgehammer to every cell in his body. Lucas gasped, doubling over as his DNA was rewritten, his muscle fibers densified, and his sensory organs overclocked. It felt like being microwaved from the inside out.
After a minute that felt like an hour, the pain vanished, replaced by a surge of raw, intoxicating power.
Lucas stood up. He felt... heavy. Grounded. Like a tank made of flesh.
He looked at his hand. He could see the dust motes dancing in the air. He could hear the heartbeat of his neighbor two floors down. He could smell the ozone from the subway tracks three blocks away.
"Okay," Lucas breathed, testing his grip on the edge of his oak table.
Crunch.
The wood splintered like balsa wood under his fingers.
"Whoa."
He focused. Strength? Roughly three times that of a normal human. Speed? Maybe 50 miles per hour. Senses? Enhanced, but not planetary scale.
"So, I'm basically Captain America right now," Lucas analyzed, flexing his arm. "Maybe a bit stronger. But I can't fly. I can't shoot lasers out of my eyes. And I definitely can't move planets."
It was a starter pack. A "Lite" version of the Kryptonian gene.
"It makes sense," Lucas reasoned. "If I got Full Power Superman right now, the story would be over. I could just punch Thanos into the sun tomorrow."
"Initial Stage" meant potential. He had the physiology. He was a solar battery now.
"As long as I soak up yellow sunlight," Lucas grinned, looking out at the morning sun streaming through his window, "I will get stronger. Every single day. Indefinitely."
It was the ultimate investment. No training montages. No radioactive spiders. just... tanning.
"I have a ticket to the big leagues," Lucas laughed, a sound of pure relief. "I don't have to hide anymore. I don't have to be afraid of a random mugging or a Chitauri stray shot."
He walked to the window, basking in the warmth. He could feel his cells drinking it in, a low hum of energy building under his skin.
"Come at me, New York," Lucas whispered. "I'm not just a tourist anymore. I'm a player."