Chapter 48Arc 5 - Ch 1: Iron Man

  Date: Friday, May 27, 2011.

  Location: House of M, Manhattan, New York

  The final airage's illusion came to its mesmerizing clusion oiron Armory's show floor. As the lights brightehe audieed into raucous appuse, clearly spellbound by the fantastic visions they had just witnessed.

  Tyson, Mirage, stood proudly iage's ter. An intricate Asian fox half-mask obscured the top half of his face, leaving only his mismatched eyes, one blue, one green, and his mouth and jaw exposed. The mask lent an air of exotic mystery to the young man, whose wild hair framed its edges.

  Stepping off the stage, Tyson was greeted by the sultry voice of Felicia Hardy. "Another masterpiece, Tyson," she purred. Felicia's por skin and ptinum blonde hair added a uouch to the appearance of a yet fierce businesswoman, an impression amplified by the sleek bck dress that g to her curves.

  They entered a private room where Tyson removed the fox mask, revealing his fa full. "Thanks, Felicia," he replied, the familiar warmth between them evident in his voice.

  Felicia tilted her head ever so slightly, a ile pying on her glossy lips. "House of M: Spiderman is a tremendous hit," she purred. "Thanks to your shows bringing iy's wealthiest looking for something new, our reputation has skyrocketed. My galleries are now the pce to be seen."

  Tyson smiled, leaning in closer. "It's been a joint effort." He knew she had been using the art galleries not just fitimate business, but for more destiivities as well. High-end art trade was an ideal front for money undering, after all.

  Felicia's emerald eyes glinted with mischief. "Oh, they certainly are," she said. "And they've been quite useful legitimizing our iory, shall we say." It seemed old habits died hard for the former notorious thief. Tyson had tasked Felicia with not just running House of M, but ensuring all the money from his Federal Reserve heist all those months ago was ated for. While she enjoyed her legitimate success, a part of her still relished the thrill of less than legal activities.

  Tyson raised an eyebrow, uo hide his amusement. "Goi now, are you?" he teased.

  "Perhaps. I am spending inordinate amounts of time around one of the city's heroes. Maybe he's rubbing off on me," Felicia purred, the er of her mouth quirking up slyly. "But it's always wise to keep one's options open."

  ging tacks, Tyson leaned bad asked, "How is our financial setup ing along? Are we ready to move forward?"

  Felicia's eyes positively sparkled at the question. "All set," she firmed eagerly. "We i, py the markets, the whole nine yards. All very much above board, of course." She fshed a dazzling grin. "Our profits are about to reach dizzying new heights."

  Uo resist, Tyson leaned in and pnted a soft kiss on her glossy lips.

  "You're doing wonderfully," he whispered.

  Tyson and Felicia had always enjoyed a fortable, pyful retionship. They had been intimate on numerous occasions when time allowed, engaging in passiorysts together. But despite the physical intimacy, their retionship had never been clearly defined or formalized. With both still busy attending school and handling their duties for the House of M, her had made an effort to solidify what they had into something more itted. Tyson sometimes wondered if Felicia was more ied in him or the profits they were raking in together. But he had to admit, he enjoyed being friends with bes with the sultry Felicia Hardy. Their physical chemistry was undeniable, even if their emotional e remained ambiguous. For now, Tyson was tent to keep things casual and Felicia had made it clear they were not a couple, that she was not a house cat to be tamed. There was o force the issue when they were both profiting so handsomely from their current arra, in more ways than one.

  Of course, there was the other side of their intimacy that Tyson. The Tyson kissing Felicia was an illusion. In all the months he'd been trying, he hadn't made any headway into trolling the life-abs power he ied frue when he arrived in this world. As Tyson found new ways to use his illusion power, and he ran the show for thousands regurly, his trol over the illusions grew. It was immensely frustrating and founding that his illusion power had improved by leaps and bounds, but his life absorption hadn't made any progress.

  Tyson could experieouch through his illusions, but there was something to be said about real, physical tact.

  Any further intimacy was interrupted when a soft knock sou the door. Tyson's private time with Felicia would have to wait.

  A soft voice filtered through the door, it was one of Felicia's many assistants. "I'm sorry for interrupting, but there's a police officer here, requesting to speak with Mirage."

  Tyson and Felicia exged a quick, tense ghe timing was ironisidering they had just been discussing money undering schemes. Without missing a beat, Tyson waved his hand and rendered Felicia invisible. The gesture was unnecessary, but it made Felicia aware of his deception.

  Tyson swiftly pulled the Asian fox half-mask over his face. He strode to the door and ope to reveal a police officer. But she wasn't the typiYPD officer; he expected a mustache, short cropped hair, maybe te twenties. Instead, at the door stood a woman in a poliiform that could've been a model. Her brown hair ulled ba a severe bun that matched the crisp lines of her uniform, which g to her slender frame in a way that would make any model envious.

  "Mirage?" she inquired, though her firm tone indicated she already khe answer.

  Tyson straightened, exuding fidence despite the ued visit. "That's me. What I do for you, officer?"

  Tyson stared at the folded piece of paper as the officer outstretched her hand.

  "It's Marshal, actually," she corrected dryly, her eyes glinting with wry amusement as Tyson tio hesitate.

  "Pardon?" He blinked, shaken from his surprise.

  "Marshal," she repeated, emphasizing the title with a raised brow.

  Tyson took the paper, a knot of apprehension f in his stomach. He unfolded it to reveal an official-looking dot… His mismatched eyes widened as they quickly sed the page.

  "That's a subpoena," she expined, her voice cool and matter-of-fact. "You're to appear before the Senate Armed Forces ittee tomorrow m."

  "Is this real?" Tyson blurted out incredulously.

  The marshal's lips quirked into a half-smile, "You're the one who does the illusions, not me."

  Tyson struggled to process this ued turn. "What would the Senate want with me?"

  The marshal leaned forward slightly, "Probably has something to do with the stolen military hardware you acquired."

  Her blunt words hit Tyson like a physical blow. He had known there might be sequences for holding onto the Goblin's glider, but he hadn't expected repercussions at the Federal level. The enthusiasm at his show's success evaporated, repced by a creeping dread. Unseen by the marshal, Felicia listened ily, no doubt already strategizing. But Tyso exposed.

  Drawing a breath, he met the marshal's eyes. "Thank you, marshal," he managed, "I'll be there."

  The marshal gave a single nod and turo leave without another word. The door clicked shut behihe sound eg with grim finality in the now silent room.

  Tyson reached for his phone and scrolled through the tacts until he found the right one. He selected it, listening to the rings until a crisp voiswered. "Maria Hill speaking."

  "Deputy Director, it's Mirage," Tyson said quickly, straining to keep the worry from his tone.

  A brief silence followed, no doubt from Hill's surprise at the ued call. But when she spoke again, her voice softened somewhat. "Tyson? What's going on?"

  Tyso out a breath, then unched into an at of the marshal's visit, describing the subpoena and the and to appear before the Senate Armed Forces ittee. When he finished, desperation tinged his words. "Look, I could use some help. Could I bum a ride to Washington D.C.?"

  Hill paused, sidering his request. When she responded, her voice radiated calm petence. "e to the RAFT. I'll arraransport and apany you. As Deputy Director, I have suffit clearance level to represent SHIELD in the hearing."

  Relief rushed through Tyson. The RAFT was SHIELD's imperable mobile submarine fortress, which had been vely anchored he southern tip of Manhattan since Kraven the Hunter and Norman Osborhe Green Goblin, had bee residents.

  With Hill at his side, he had a real ce to weather this crisis. Some of the dread strig his chest eased. But uainty still g him. "You're sure SHIELD has my ba this?" he asked quietly.

  "Absolutely," Hill replied without hesitation. "We'll get through this."

  The steadfast assuran her words finally broke through Tyson's ay. "Thank you."

  "Just get here. I'm arranging for people to prep you with how to ahe ittee's questions," Hill responded briskly before ending the call.

  Tyson stared at the now silent phone, letting the versation with Hill fully sink in. He experienced a swirl of emotions; fear at the uainty ahead, gratitude for SHIELD's support, aermination mixed with trepidation at having to face the federal gover.

  Turning back to Felicia, he approached her slowly. Their eyes met in perfederstanding.

  She reached up to gently caress his cheek. He leaned into her soft touch. Their lips met in a kiss that lingered. As they finally pulled back, she whispered "Good luck," the words barely a sigh against his skin.

  He had no time to reply. Even as Felicia drew her breath, the illusionary Tyson evaporated from her arms. He was already in motion, moving with haste to his suite at the Four Seasons to retrieve the glider. The time for se had passed. He had a hearing to prepare for.

  Tyson rushed through the streets of New York, weaving nimbly betweerians and vehicles alike. The imposing facade of the RAFT soon loomed before him, its sheer walls and ck of windows indig the high-security protocols ihin. Upoering, he was ushered through the halls to meet with Maria Hill.

  The room he entered exuded SHIELD's signature sleek, moderhetic. At its ter stood Agent Hill, her gaze fixed on a rge television s that dispyed the openiivities of the Stark Expo. Even through the s, the vibrant energy ahusiasm of the crowd at the Expo alpable.

  Hill's sharp eyes flicked to Tyson as he entered, her expressioral but assessing. "Mirage," she greeted simply. "We head out whenever you're ready," she added, motioning towards the exit.

  But Tyson paused. His mismatched eyes were drawn to the images on the s. "No rush," he replied, geerest c his voice. "I don't want to interrupt. I was hoping to catch the Expo ce anyway." Maria raised a slender eyebrow but settled into her seat and gave him a nod of assent. Curiosity got the better of Tyson, and he casually asked, "Have you ever actually seen any of my shows, Deputy Director?"

  She shook her head, loose dark hair swaying slightly. "Haven't gotten the ce."

  A pyful smirk formed on Tyson's lips. "Well then, sider this a gift for helpi like this." His mismatched eyes became serious, holding Maria's gaze ily. "But keep in mind, no matter how real it seems, it's just an illusion. Stay in your seat."

  Hill nodded in uanding, steeling herself for whatever vivid illusion Tyson was about to jure up.

  Before her eyes, the office dramatically transformed into a breathtaking aerial view overlooking the Stark Expo. The grandeur of the se was impressive, with gleaming futuristic buildings and exhibits showg teology and innovations not yet revealed to the wider world. Though she k was an illusion, Maria Hill couldn't help but feel as if she were truly s high over the Expo, experieng its energy and spectacle firsthand.

  Brilliant bursts of color lit up the night sky, the fireworks stoking the enthusiasm of the crowds below as they cheered and surged toward the main pavilion. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement and anticipation.

  Maria Hill's eyes widened with wonder, utterly engrossed in the vivid illusion. "This is incredible," she breathed.

  A sudden roar from the crowd drew their attention skyward. From above, a figure desded rapidly, wind rushing past him. It was her than Tony Stark himself, skydiving from a jet pne in his iic red and gold Iron Man suit. He nded smoothly oage amidst a bze of pyroteics, the crowd erupting in deafening cheers. But Tony wasn't finished yet. In a move that showcased his fidehe arman to disassemble piece by piece, revealing the man inside.

  The crowd ted his name over and over, "Tony! Tony! Tony! Tony!"

  Bathed in spotlights, Tony Stark stood tall oage as the st pieces of his suit retreated, leaving him in a stylish suit.

  A man from the crowd shouted, "Blow something up!"

  Tony stood fidently oage, bathed in spotlights, as the st pieces of his Iron Man armor retreated. "I missed you too. Blow something up? I already did that." Tony began, drawing in the audieh his charisma. "I'm not saying the world is enjoying its lo stretch of uninterrupted pea years because of me. I'm not saying that Uncle Sam kick bad rex with aea, certain that no one alive today has the guts to challenge me on my best day." He paused, allowing the weight of his bold statement to sink in. Behind him, a rge s dispyed a graph highlighting the signifit global decrease in flicts since Iron Man's emergence.

  A woman's voice rang out from the crowd, "I love you, Tony!"

  He tinued, unfazed by the adoration. "Please, this isn't about me. It's not about any one of you either. It's not even about all of us together. It's about legacy. It's about what we choose to leave behind for future geions." Tony's voice grew more impassioned. "That's why for the year, for the first time since 1974, the best and brightest from nations and corporations worldwide will pool their resources and vision to leave behind a brighter future. Therefore, what I'm saying, if I'm saying anything, is wele back to the Stark Expo!"

  As the cheers died down, Tony's tone grew more introspective. "And now, making a special guest appearance from beyond, please wely father, Howard."

  Tony's te father, Howard Stark, appeared in a rec on the rge onstage s. "Everything is achievable through teology," Howard's voied. "Better living, robust health, and for the first time in human history, the possibility of world peace. So from all of us here at Stark Industries, I'd like to personally introduce you to the City of the Future. Teology holds infinite possibilities for mankind, and will one day rid society of all its ills. Soon teology will affect the way you live your life every day. No more tedious work, leaving more time for leisure activities and enjoying the sweet life. The Stark Expo. Wele."

  Tony picked up from where his father left off as the rec ended, "We're here to see what be achieved when innovatios purpose."

  With that inimitable Stark charm, he addressed the audience, "My father, Howard Stark, had a dream. He believed the Expo ce where the best and the brightest could challehemselves and each other, driving humanity to eveer heights."

  Tony tinued, passion evident in his tone, "I'm proud to annouhat, for the year, this Expo will be a bea, showg human adva, innovation, and the pi spirit that refuses to say 'it 't be done.'" Tony cluded, his voice almost breaking, "Again, it's not about me. It's not about my father. It's about our future, and how we shape it, together." Tony said, his voice resonating with raw emotion. The Expo grounds filled with thunderous appuse.

  The illusion faded away as Tyson ceased his psychic proje, the sights, and sounds of the Stark Expo dissolving until only the office of Deputy Direaria Hill remained. She regarded the young mutant with an appraising look, one sculpted eyebrow raised in aowledgment of his impressive skills.

  "That was...intense," she ented, a note of ho appreciation c her typically stoie. Maria sidered for a moment before replying, "Your power is remarkable."

  He grinned, buoyed by her words. "Thanks. Means a lot ing from the deputy director."

  Maria briskly switched gears, all business once more. She stood, stepping out from behind the heavy oak desk. "Alright, let's get to the jet. I'll brief you on the way." Tyson nodded and followed her out.

  Ba Queens, the Stark Expo tinued unfolding in its full glory. Not long after Tony Stark stepped off the extravagant stage. He pulled out a small device, cheg its reading.

  Blood toxicity: 19%

  Afterward, Happy led Tony through the crowded expo. When they finally reached the parking area, a woman waited for him beside his fshy new sports car. As Tony approached with his signature pyboy smirk, he remarked, "I didn't expect my own Expo to have models handing out business cards."

  The woman gave him an cool, enigmatic smile. "I'm not here for that," she replied evenly. She extended a crisp white envelope toward Tony, who waved for his ever-present bodyguard Happy Hogan to take it.

  "I don't like being hahings," Tony muttered before plug the letter from Happy. His cocky smile faded as he sed the tents. "To appear before the Senate Armed Forces ittee?" he asked, surprise c his voice.

  "That's right," the woman firmed.

  Happy's eyebrows shot up in , but Tony casually waved away his bodyguard's worry. "Do you have a badge?" he inquired of the beauty.

  In response, she produced a U.S. Marshal's badge. Tony appraised the woman. "You're a process server? You have the look of a runway model."

  She winked flirtatiously. "I'm two for two today."

  Tony asked, "Out of curiosity, who was the other?"

  The woman leaned in, her voice dripping with intrigue. "Mirage."

  Tony's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Huh. That one's a little ued," he mused as he processed this new information.

  With that, Tony slid into his Audi R8, revving the engine. As he pulled away, he called over the aggressive roar, "The world is full of surprises, isn't it?"

  From the passenger seat, Happy Hogan chuckled in agreement. "That it is, boss. That it is."

  The sports car sped off, leaving behind the dazzle and cmor of the Stark Expo. Tony Stark and Happy Hogan raced on toward Washington D.C. with the subpoena stuffed into the dashboard.

  — Rogue Rept —

  Date: Saturday, May 28, 2011.

  Location: Dirksee Office Building, Washington, DC

  The spacious hearing room of the Dirksee Office Building hummed with activity as staffers and attendees bustled about, settling into seats lined in rows fag the raised dais at the front. Tyson, cealed behind his alter ege, felt distinctly out of pce amidst the sea of suits and skirts surrounding him. He picked his way carefully through the anized chaos, keenly aware of the curious gnces and hushed whispers his presence elicited.

  As he approached the long table set before the dais, Tyson surveyed those already seated. It was a veritable who's who of teology, industry, and gover. To his left sat Maria Hill, her rigid posture and sharp gaze betraying her role as the no-nonsense representative of SHIELD. Further down, Harry Osborn shuffled through papers, looking equal parts nervous and eager as he prepared to speak on behalf of Oscorp Industries. The stant fidgeting and overly polished smile of Justin Hammer screamed overpensation, a transparent attempt by the CEO of Hammer Industries to impress the ittee.

  And directly te's right sprawled Tony Stark, affeg an air of casual nonce despite the gravity of the hearing. As Tyson took his seat, Stark turo him with a roguish grin. "So, Mirage," he began, curiosity c his tone, "what brings you into the lion's den today?"

  Tyson tensed, acutely unfortable by the crimes he was accused of. "Illegally procured military teology," he replied evenly, meeting Stark's gaze. "Cimed it from a guy who stole it first."

  Stark's eyes glinted with i as he leaned forward ily. "Is it true you create any kind of illusion you want?" he asked eagerly.

  In respoo Tony Stark’s question, Tyson stood up, his movement ignored by everyone in the Senate hearing room except Tony. He walked fidently to the floor, standing squarely betweeable of delegates and the row of stern-faced Senators. Suddenly, the room shifted with an ued spectacle. Meical gears and devices appeared to rise from the floor, whirring and g as they formed around Tyson. The pos seamlessly crafted a suit of armor, mirr the iic design of the Iron Man suit. The illusion was so ving that even Tony Stark leaned forward, his eyes widening in surprise and curiosity. The suit now fully formed around Tyson, he raised his arms, the repulsors on his palms lighting up with an intense glow. He fired the repulsors, ung himself upward. Instead of the expected destru, Tyson vanished without a trace. There was no hole in the ceiling, no sign of damage. The gears and maes too dissolved into nothingness, revealing the truth.

  Tyson hadn’t moved an inch. It was all an eborate illusion.

  Tony Stark broke into a wide grin, clearly impressed. “Hell of a trick,” he excimed, g lightly. “You do impressions too?”

  Without missing a beat, Tyson’s appearance shifted, morphing into a perfect likeness of Tony Stark himself. In Tony’s own voice, he quipped, “Nah, too cliché.” His tone yful, perfectly capturing Tony’s characteristic charm and wit.

  Tony Stark shook his head. "I've got to admit, that's pretty good," he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

  The demonstration had been a private showiween Tyson and Tony Stark, ohat had lightehe temosphere of the Senate hearing somewhat for the young mutant.

  Senator Stern rapped his gavel sharply, the sound anding the attention of all those gathered. He fixed his steely gaze on Tyson. "Let's bring this meeting to order," the senator's stern tone reverberated through the chamber as he addressed the accused. "Mirage, you stand accused here today because of your involvement with illegally procured military teology."

  Tyson studied the senator's familiar face, rag his memory. The man's appearance aligned perfectly with Tyson's recolles, yet something eluded him, a nagging sehat he was fetting some crucial detail about the senator.

  A heavy silence desded upon the room as the senator summoned Harry Osborn to speak. Rising from his seat, the young heir apparent to Oscorp exuded a blend of youthful ambition and corporate gravitas. He turo address the assembled senators. This was Harry's first public appearance as head of Oscorp, he o knock it out of the park. Not only were the eyes of politis on him, he was sure the board of directors was watg, hoping for him to stumble.

  "Senators, esteemed colleagues," Harry began, his steady voice veying both resped urgency. "The matter at hand is of great importa just to Oscorp but to our national security is." He paused, ensuring all eyes rested upon him.

  "The teology iion, an advanced aerial bat glider, represents the pinnacle of Oscorp's researd development, years of tireless innovation and substantial iment from the department of defe is the product of our colborative efforts with the military to maintain battlefield supremacy." Harry's gaze flicked briefly toward Mirage, his expression one of disdain.

  "This glider has unfortunately fallen into the hands of an individual unauthorized to possess it. Its absence has created more than a logistical issue; it has jeopardized a crucial military project."

  Harry's tone grew more ear as he tinued. "The glider was desigo be a game-ger in aerial bat and reaissance. Cutting-edge innovations in mobility and firepower all tailored for use by our soldiers to protect our nation's is." Turning his attention back to the ittee, Harry's steady, impl gaze met each of theirs in turn.

  "The urgency of this matter ot be uated. Each day this teology remains outside authorized hands, our nation risks falling behind in our itment to military supremad national security." cluding his appeal, Harry added, "Therefore, on behalf of Oscorp and ierest of national security, I respectfully yet urgently request the glider's immediate return to our custody. Its recovery is imperative to tinue our development program and fulfill our tractual obligations to the military."

  With that, Harry Osborn resumed his seat, his bold statement hanging portentously in the air. The senators sat absorbed in ptive silence, izant of the gravity of the situation. All eyes turned once more toward Mirage, waiting for his response.

  Mirage had listened impassively, his fa inscrutable mask. The senator's voice rang out again, authoritative and unpromising. "Mirage, you are hereby ordered to return the glider to Oscorp at once."

  With a casual shrug, Mirage rose smoothly from his seat. The room watched him ily, on edge. In one fluid motion, he reached behind himself, astonishing the onlookers as he produced the glider as if from thin air. Its sudden appearance was surreal, the glider obviously wider thaable, yet pletely cealed from view by Mirage's illusions.

  He pced the glider gingerly upoable before a surprised yet relieved-looking Harry Osborn.

  Harry Osborn ran his fingers over the glider's smooth metallic surface as he ied it for any damage. Around the room, attendees murmured among themselves, exging gnces and hushed whispers. Tony Stark, ner to dramatitrances, leaned back casually in his chair, seemingly impressed by Mirage's nont dispy of power.

  As Mirage sat back down in his seat, his movements were calm and measured despite the charged atmosphere in the room. Senator Sterns ture, "Did y a military on to a Senate hearing?" he asked sharply. "How did you get it past security?"

  Tyson's response was immediate, his tone hinting at irreverence. "My mistake, sir. I assumed since you called me here about it, you wanted me to return it. How I got it past security should be evident." He adjusted the microphone before him, ensuring everyone could hear him clearly. When Mirage spoke , his voice was ced with a tone of siy that ahe room's attention.

  "Ladies alemeors, I uand how this looks," he began, his gaze sweeping across the room to meet the eyes of those gathered. "But let me assure you, my as were not those of a thief."

  The room fell silent as all ears tue's voice. "The lider unfortunately found its way into the possession of the Green Goblin, someone who, frankly, had no business wielding such power," he tinued. "Whether Oscorp lost it to him or created it for him, that's a distin I'm not qualified to make. What I do know is that it was in the wrong hands, and I stepped in."

  Mirage paused, letting his words sink in. "I acted to end a crisis. Many died at the hands of the Green Goblin, Norman Osborne, including the military officials overseeing its development at Oscorp. My only goal was to keep it safe, to e didn't bee a tool of destru for another madman."

  In the audience, people exged thoughtful gnces, some nodding in uanding while others still seemed skeptical. Mirage leaned forward slightly, his expression ear as he pressed his case.

  "Today, by turning it over to Oscorp under gover instru and ht, I am doing what I believe is right," he tinued, his voice ringing with vi. "This absolves me of any further responsibility for the glider and its future use. I'm not the vilin here. I stopped the vilin."

  Mirage's words seemed to ripple through the chamber, causing a stir among the audiend promptiors to sult quietly with their aides as they sidered his defense.

  The atmosphere in the room had shifted; many attendees now viewing Mirage not as a rogue element but as someone who had taken a stand for the greater good. It was evident that Mirage's speech had struck a chord, challenging the narrative of the hearing and painting him in a different light.

  Senator Stern cleared his throat, trying tain trol of the proceedings. "That settles oter," he decred, attempting to cloak his surprise with a veneer of formality. "Let's move on with the agenda."

  Shifting in his seat, Senator Stern turned his gaze toward Tony Stark, regaining his posure. "Now, Mr. Stark," he began.

  Seated casually, Tony exuded a sense of superiority, clearly unimpressed by the formality and gravity of the situation.

  Senator Stern's voice echoed through the spacious room as he asserted, "We believe the Iron Man teology is a matter of national security. This isn't just a piece of advanced maery; it's a on, ohat should not be in private hands."

  Tony Stark sat casually in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, clearly amused by the senatrandstanding. He replied, "It's a prosthesis, Senator. I hate to burst your bubble, but the suit and I are ourning over the Iron Man suit would be equivalent to iured servitude, or prostitution, depending oate."

  Murmurs and chuckles rippled through the audie Tony's cheeky response. Senator Stern's face tightened, his jaw g almost imperceptibly as Tony's flippancy clearly aggravated him. "We will hear from an expert witness, the gover's primary ons trar. Justin Hammer," Stern announced, uo fully mask the eagerness in his too move on from the frustrating exge with the uable Stark.

  As Justin Hammer, CEO of Hammer Industries, stood up from his seat, there was a noticeable shift in the energy of the room. Hammer straightened his suit jacket and approached the microphone, ready to give his testimony. "Senators, let's face it," began Hammer, his voice steady yet underid with opportunistidertones. "Having one man monopolize this kind of teology is not only dangerous, it's anti-Ameri."

  "Let the record reflect that I observed Mr Hammer entering the chamber, and I am w if and when any actual expert will also be in attendaony interrupted dryly, elig a scowl from Hammer.

  Hammer spread his hands, the picture of deference. "Absolutely. I'm no expert. I defer to you, Anthony. You're the wonder boy. Senator, if I may?" He turned, addressing the room. "I may well not be an expert, but you knoas the expert? Your dad. Howard Stark." Hammer shook his head, as if overe with emotion. "Really a father to us all." Toed the urge to roll his eyes.

  "We all knoe're here," Hammer tinued, "I six months, Anthony Stark has created a sword with untold possibilities. A, he insists it's a shield." Hammer tsked, shaking his head in mret. "He asks us to trust him as we cower behind it. I wish I were forted, Anthony, I really do. I'd love to leave my door unlocked when I leave the house, but this ain't ada. You know, we live in a world of grave threats, threats that Mr Stark will not always be able to foresee." Hammer spread his hands wide, the mate showman. "Thank you. God bless Iron Man. God bless America."

  With a final smile for the cameras, Hammer took his seat. Despite Hammer's fident words, his demeanor betrayed his underlying iude and transparent self-i. His gestures appeared overly rehearsed, and his argument seemed more focused on taking down his rival than any real about national security. In stark trast to Tony's easy charisma and genius, Hammer came across as a businessman looking for any ao exploit the situation to his own advantage.

  "That was well said Mr Hammer," Senator Stern replied, "The ittee would now like to invite Lieutenant el James Rhodes to the chamber."

  Tony Stark looked up in surprise as el James Rhodes strode purposefully into the senate hearing room, the el's polished shoes clig sharply oiled floor. Stark started to rise from his seat to greet his friend, a quip already f on his lips, but Rhodes silenced him with an abrupt wave of his hand.

  "Don't start, Tony," Rhodes said, his tone brooking nument. "I'm here, let's leave it at that."

  Stark settled slowly bato his chair, eyebrows raised. He opened his mouth as if to respond, then seemed to thier of it and simply nodded.

  Senator Stern, who had been this exge with i, now spoke up in his reedy voice. "el Rhodes, I have before me the full report you prepared on the Iron Man on. For the record, would you please read paragraph four on page 57?"

  Rhodes turoward the senator, his expressioral. "You wao read specific excerpts, sir? I was uhe impression I'd be testifying in a more prehensive manner."

  Stern waved a hand dismissively. "Pns ge, el. Just read the paragraph, if you would."

  Rhodes' jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but his tone remained polite. "With respect, Senator, reading a single paragraph out of text does not accurately vey the summary findings of my full report."

  Stern's eyes narrowed. "I'm well aware of that, el. Read the paragraph."

  "Very well," Rhodes acquiesced after a brief pause. His gaze dropped to the report on the desk before him as he read in a clear voice, "As he does not operate within any definable branch of gover, Iron Mas a potential threat to the security of both the nation and her is." Rhodes looked back up at the senator. "However, if you'll permit me, I do go on to summarize that the bes provided by Iron Man far outweigh any liabilities, and reend that it would be advantageous to fold Mr. Stark's operations into the existing military of and."

  Stern held up a hand. "That's suffit, thank you el."

  Rhodes pressed on stubbornly. "In order to fully uand my positioor, I believe it is important to sider my full statement on..."

  "That's enough," Stern interrupted testily.

  Stark, who had been watg the exge with mounting amusement, now spoke up. "Well, I'm not really the 'fall in liype, but I'll think about Secretary of Defense if you ask nicely." A ripple of ughter passed through the spectators. "Maybe we egotiate on the hours a bit," Stark added with a roguish grin.

  Stern's craggy features darke the flippant response. He ground out, "I’d like to go on and show, if I may, the imagery that’s ected to your report."

  el Rhodes' jaw tightened further as he respoubbornly, "I believe it is someremature to reveal these images to the general public at this time."

  Stern's eyes fshed with impatience. "With all due respect, el, I uand. And if you could just narrate those for us, we’d be very grateful. Let’s have the images."

  Rhodes' shoulders tensed, but he nodded sharply. "Intelligence suggests that the devices seen in these photos are, in fact, attempts at making manned copies of Mr Stark’s suit. This has been corroborated by our allies and local intelligen the ground, indig that these suits are quite possibly, at this moment, operational."

  While Rhodes eaking, Stark had picked up a Stark Industries tablet and was tapping away, an i look on his face.

  Rhodes finished his narration with a wary g Stark. "That's all for now, Senator."

  Stark looked up from his tablet, eyes glinting. "Hold on a sed buddy. Let me see something here."

  Stern's craggy features creased in anger. "What is he doing?" he spat.

  Starked tapped a few more times. Before replying, "I andeered your ss. I hem. Time for a little transparency." Stark ected his tablet to the ss dispying the cssified images. "Now, let's see what's really going on."

  Stark just grinned. "If you will direct your attention to said ss, I believe that’s North Korea." The ss ged to show shaky video footage of a robotic suit. It promptly fell over. The teology was clearly not operational.

  Stern's face flushed an angry red. " you turn that off?" he barked. "Take it off."

  Justin Hammer had risen from his seat during the otion. He now stood by the ss, frantically looking for the off switch.

  Stark was unfazed. "Iran," he announced, as the ss switched to show a different suit. This one managed a few seds of unsteady flight before smoke started p from it. The image cut to the suit crashing in a ball of fme.

  "No grave threat here," Stark ented drily.

  Then the ss switched again, showing Justin Hammer himself posing with a crude robotic suit. Stark raised an eyebrow. "Is that Justin Hammer? How did Hammer get in the game?"

  The video footage showed Hammer's suit attempting to move, but only managing an uncoordiumble. Stark called out, "Justin, you're on TV. Focus up."

  The video Hammer looked around fusedly. "Okay, give me a left twist. Left's good. Turn to the right." The robotic suit twisted pletely around and the pilot let out a strangled scream. Hammer could then be heard over the yelling, "Oh, shit. Oh, shit."

  Stark wiheatrically. "Language, Justin."

  Just then, the real Hammer mao unplug the ss, cutting off the feed. Stark shrugged, uned. "Wow. Yeah, I'd say most tries, five, ten years away. Hammer Industries, twenty."

  Hammer piped up defensively, "I'd like to point out that that test pilot survived."

  Stern cut him off angrily. "I think we're done is the point that he's making. I don’t think there’s any reason to tihis dispy."

  Stark leaned forward, his expression intehe point I'm making is you're safe. America is secure. You want my property? You 't have it." His words brooked nument. "I've successfully privatized world peace," he cluded, his bold decration resonating through the room.

  The frustrated senators exged uneasy gnces, disbelief warring with grudging acceptan their faces.

  Senator Stern, having failed to er the infuriatingly flippant Tony Stark, turned his attention bairage. Stern's voice took on a prosecutorial tone as he began to question the illusionist.

  "Let's discuss your powers, shall we Mirage?" Stern began, a predatlint in his eyes. "These little magic shows of yours, how we be sure they're safe? Shouldn't the gover have some ht oential danger your abilities could pose to the hardw citizens who elected us to protect them?"

  Mirage sat calmly, an air of quiet fidence surrounding the young hero. He responded without hesitation, unfazed by the Senator's attempt at intimidation. "If you truly thought I was a danger, Senator, why invite me here today? This feels more like political grandstanding than genuine for public safety. Your words and as don't seem to match."

  Stern, unshaken by the retort, tinued his line of questioning, grasping for any thread to uhe posed young man in front of him. "All young men are required tister with the Selective Service upon turnieen. Are yistered, young man? And while we're on the subject, why don't you tell us your real identity and the source of these illusory powers of yours?"

  Mirage's reply came just as cool and collected as before. "I am nistered, Senator."

  Stern pounced on the admission, ung into a sterure, wagging his finger like a principal disciplining an unruly student. "That's a felony. You could be looking at up to five years in prison and a fine of 250,000 for failure tister. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

  "I haven't registered because I'm ee."

  A hush fell over the room as Mirage delivered his simple, yet shog response. Every eye in the room focused on Mirage, who sat calmly, almost nontly dropping this bombshell. The attendees, from senators to journalists, began to fully prehend the meaning behind his words. This young man, not even an adult, had single-handedly stopped a bomb-wielding madman armed with advanced military teology. He had faced down an enormous mutated lizard capable of tossing cars with ease. And he likely did all of this while still attending high school, keeping up with homework as. Whispers began to ripple through the crowd, a mixture of awe, respect, and disbelief. Stern gnced around, his annoyance written on his face. His line of attack had crumbled in an instant upon learning Mirage's age. In a room full of powerful adults, Mirage now revealed to still be a teen, suddenly seemed rger than life. His bravery cast the entire debate about superheroes in a new light that gave even the most ical senator pause. Stern and his colleagues exged uneasy looks, some clearly reassessing their stance.

  'As for the soury powers, I'm a mutant." At Tyson's admission, the crowd began to murmur. The press in particur looked intrigued, leaning forward in their seats, pens poised over notepads.

  Senator Stern pstered a skeptical, dismissive look across his face. "Mutants aren't real," he scoffed. "This is a hearing based on facts, not sce fi."

  Tysohe senataze evenly. "You should know mutants are real, Senator. I was attacked by a gover agency led by William Stryker. As a member of the defense ittee, I'm sure you're informed of such agencies and operations."

  Stern's eyes narrowed briefly before he responded, "el William Stryker was killed retly, and his death and as while in and of that defense division are under iigation. The details of that department and its iigation are cssified and shall not be discussed any further as this is a public hearing."

  Tyson sidered how suspicious the senator's quick retort was. He stared hard at the man, notig details that jogged his memory. Stern's face, his mannerisms; Tyson realized why the senator seemed familiar. This man was HYDRA. Why did he keep running into these guys? Tyson tamped down a fre of ahen there was the revetion that Stryker was dead. Tyson thought Stryker had escaped Alkali Lake, but it seemed he assumed incorrectly.

  There was nothing he could do about it now. Keeping his voice steady, Tyson tinued, "I have ected with S.H.I.E.L.D. If the gover needs me, I'll ahe call. I'm not your enemy, Senator. I help stop those in my neighborhood who pose a threat that the police 't handle. I kept a military on out of the hands of the bad guys. You wanted me to give it back, and I have... but like Mr. Stark… I'm not your on."

  As Tyson fihe room fell into a tense silence peppered by soft murmurs.

  As the hearing wound down, Tyson watched as the st of the senators filed out of the room. He was left with Tony Stark, the two heroes having a moment away from the grilling before the press closed in.

  "That was nicely done," Stark said, g Tyson lightly on the shoulder. Though his tone was casual, there was an uncharacteristicerity to the words.

  Tyson blinked in surprise but quickly posed himself. "I was just following your lead," he replied modestly. In truth, watg Stark stand before the hostile ittee had emboldened him in his owimony.

  Stark's smile widened. "Maybe I'll stop by for one of your shows sometime," he said. "I could use a few tips on showmanship from a master illusionist."

  Tyson ughed lightly. "You don't need any tips, you're already a master. But you're wele anytime. And hey, if you ever wao tell your story, like I do Spider-Man's, I'd be more than happy to. Though I doubt you he money."

  At this, Stark's expression shifted almost imperceptibly. For a brief moment, his smiling facade cracked, revealing a flicker of somber seriousness. "Actually, I might take you up on that," he said slowly. Though his tone was still casual, there was a sudde to the words that hi something deeper.

  Tyson watched as Stark turned and walked toward the exit, mulling over the strange exge. As Stark reached the door, he gnced back with a wave. "Catch you ter, David Bine," he called out with a fsh of his signature grin before disappearing down the hall.

  Tyson found his thoughts returning to that brief, serious moment of refle on Tony's face. He khe reasoning behind that brief glimpse of solemnity, the hidden battle the billienius was fag. It was a remihat behind the swagger there was a man fag his own private struggles… A man living on borrowed time. Stark only had days left to live from paldium poisoning, caused by the arc reactor in his chest.

  Tyson sighed, lost in thought. Even if he wao help Tony, Tyson didn't have the stifiowledge to solve the Paldium problem, but maybe he could drop a hint.

  — Rogue Rept —

  Happy tapped Tony on the back of the head with a light punot enough to truly hurt the man but certainly enough to get his attention. Toed quickly, kig out and sending Happy crashing into the er of the boxing ring. Tony stepped back, dropping his fists. "That's it. I'm done," he announced.

  He turo the woman who'd grabbed his attention when she walked in with Pepper. "What's your name, dy?"

  "Rushman. Natalie Rushman," she replied smoothly.

  "Front aer. e into the church," Tony directed, being her forward.

  Pepper shot him a look. "No. You're seriously not gonna ask..." she began warningly.

  "If it pleases the court, which it does," Tony interrupted with a roguish grin.

  Natalie g Pepper apologetically. "It's no problem," she assured the other woman before stepping into the ring.

  Pepper shook her head in exasperation. "I'm sorry. He's very etric," she expio Natalie.

  Tony took another swig from a bottle filled with a strange green liquid as Natalie ehe ring. " you give her a lesson?" he asked Happy.

  "No problem," Happy agreed readily, though his expression showed he was still smarting a bit from the kick.

  Tony stepped out of the ring and sauntered over to sit by Pepper. "Pepper," he began.

  "What?" she asked ftly, clearly annoyed.

  "Who is she?" Tony wao know, nodding his head toward Natalie.

  Pepper let out an irritated huff. "She is from legal. And she is potentially a very expensive sexual harassment wsuit if you keep ogling her like that."

  Tony waved a hand dismissively. "I need a new assistant, boss," he decred.

  Pepper's eyes fshed. "Yes, and I've got three excellent potential didates. They're lined up and ready to meet you."

  "I don't have time to meet. I need someone now. I feel like it's her," Tony insisted stubbornly.

  Pepper shook her head in disbelief. "No, it's not."

  Meanwhile, Happy was sizing Natalie up. "You ever boxed before?" he questioned.

  "I have, yes," Natalie firmed.

  Happy looked skeptical. "What, like, the Tae Bo? Booty Boot Camp? ch? Something like that?"

  Natalie's face flickered with brief annoyance before Tony's voice distracted her again.

  "How do I spell your name, Natalie?" Tony called out.

  "R-U-S-H-M-A-N," she spelled out for him.

  Pepper threw up her hands. "What, are you gonna google her now?"

  Tony smirked. "I thought I was ogling her." He tapped oable they were sitting at, bringing up Natalie's file. The table surface doubled as a high-teputer s. Tony had puters ied into everything.

  "Wow. Very, very impressive individual," Tony murmured appreciatively as he sed through Natalie's information.

  Pepper let out a bitter ugh. "You're so predictable, you know that?"

  Tony murmured appreciatively as he sed through Natalie's information, his eyes darting bad forth across the page. "I need her. She’s got everything that I ony focused entirely on the projected file. "She's fluent in French, Italian, Russian, Latin," he mused aloud. "Who speaks Latin?"

  "No one speaks Latin," Pepper said ftly, her tone brooking nument.

  "No one speaks Latin," Tony echoed absently, his mind clearly elsewhere.

  Pepper gave him a withering look, her eyes narrowing in annoyance. "It's a dead nguage. You read Latin or you write Latin, but you 't speak Latin."

  Tony tinued on, his question expining his absent-mindedness "Did you model in Tokyo? 'Cause she modeled in Tokyo," he said, his gaze glued to Natalie's pictures rather than her resume.

  Pepper threw her hands up in exasperatioing out an aggravated huff. She inly fed up with Tony's single-minded focus on the new assistant.

  Happy circled Natalie o, "Rule number one, ake your eyes off who you're fighting," he cautioned. He threunch, but Natalie reacted instantly. She grabbed his outstretched arm and used his momentum to flip him in one smooth motion. Happy's legs flipped up and over as he crashed heavily onto his ba the mat.

  Pepper's eyes went wide with shock as she watched the quick takedown. "Oh my God, Happy!" she excimed.

  Tony's face lit up with an eager grin as he watched Natalie dispatch his bodyguard. "That's what I'm talking about!" he excimed approvingly.

  Happy let out a pained groan from his position ft on his ba the mat. "I just slipped," he cimed unvingly as he struggled to catch his breath.

  Tony's grin only grew wider with skepticism. "You did?" he asked, his voice dripping with doubt.

  "Yeah," Happy firmed, though the disfort written pinly across his face told a very different story.

  Tony clearly did not believe him for a sed. "Looks like a TKO to me," he pronounced decisively. He rang the bell signaling the end of the match as Natalie stepped away from the mat, leaving Happy groaning in pain behind her.

  Natalie turo Tony, her expressioral. "I need your impression," she requested briskly.

  Tony sidered her for a moment, rubbing his . "You have a quiet reserve. I don’t know, you have an old soul," he mused thoughtfully.

  "I meant your fingerprint," Natalie crified in a businesslike tone.

  "Right," Tony said, looking mildly embarrassed as he pressed his thumb to the ser she held out.

  Pepper stepped over, hands on her hips, "So, how are we doing?" she inquired.

  "Great. Just ing up here," Tony replied breezily, handing the ser back to Natalie. "Hey. You’re the boss," he added.

  Natalie's expression remained impassive. "Will that be all, Mr Stark?" she asked coolly.

  "No," Tony responded immediately, his eyes trailing over her appreciatively.

  "Yes, that will be all, Ms Rushman," Pepper cut in sharply. "Thank you very much."

  Natalie ined her head aed the room. Tony turo Pepper, an eager light in his eyes. "I want one," he decred.

  "No," Pepper refused ftly, her mouth set in a firm line.

  — Rogue Rept —

  The Senate hearing behind him, Tyson found the thrum of the jet's engines oddly f as the pne flew back to New York. The trip was blessedly short, just under an hour in the air, but his mind tinued ing through the events of the past day. Wheouched dowhanked Maria Hill for the ride and for the sel she had provided in preparation for the hearing. Though she had not o speak on his behalf before the politis, her insights shared en route had tributed greatly to his success. Agent Hill graced him with the barest nod, aowledging his words before striding from the pne.

  Tyson grabbed his helmet and made his way outside, to his waiting motorcycle. He swung a leg over the mae, settling onto the leather seat. He thumbed the starter ahe engine rumble to life beh him. Tyson twisted the throttle, sav the throaty roar as the bike surged forward. The wind tore at his clothes, the familiar smells and sounds of the city rising around him. It was good to be ba New York. Bae. He cruised through the streets, weaving amongst taxis and delivery vans.

  Tyson strode through the lobby of the Four Seasons. He was brought up short when the woman at the front desk hurried over, "I'm so sorry to bother you, sir," she apologized profusely, wringing her hands. "But an importaer arrived for you earlier today. It was hand-delivered and marked urgent."

  Tyson paused, frowning slightly. His mismatg eyes narrowed as he sidered this ued development. Who would be sending him urgent correspondence here at the hotel? After a moment he nodded, extending a hand.

  "Let's have a look then," he said, his voice a low rumble.

  The woman bustled behind the ter aurned swiftly, pressing a crisp ivory envelope into Tyson's waiting palm. He he heavy texture of the paper, the wax seal on the back. Who still used wax seals? Tyson slid a finger uhe fp aracted the letter within. For a long moment, he simply stood, letter in hand, deaf to the flow of people around him cheg in and out. Tyson focused oiculous script flowing across the page. It was from the A One. His eyes flicked bad forth as he quickly read the tents.

  Saturday, May 28, 2011

  Tyson Smith, Mirage,

  Leader of the House of M

  Dear Tyson,

  I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. I have been keeping an eye on your ret endeavors, both the shows that captivate so many and your ret appeara the Senate hearing. It is heartening to see someone of your ualents engage in such pivotal societal discourses. Your ability to eh audiences is truly admirable.

  It strikes me that it has been some time since our st versation. To this end, I would like to extend an invitation for breakfast at the New York Sanctum, tomorrow m. I believe a face-to-face meeting would provide a ducive atmosphere for the exge of thoughts and experiences of events that have emerged since we st spoke and those yet to e.

  The Sanctum will provide an assortment of ary delights. However, I do find myself hoping that you might bring along some of that exquisite tea you shared during our st meeting. Its unique blend and aroma were quite lovely, and I have found my thoughts wandering to its f warmth on more than one occasion.

  I anticipate our meeting with a keen sense of expectation. Your jouryson, is ohat holds much promise, not just for you but for the many threads of destiny that you touch.

  The Sanctum is ever a pce of wele for those who tread the path of knowledge and uanding, and your presence will be a valued addition to its halls.

  In anticipation of our meeting,

  A One,

  Sorceress Supreme

  PS. On a slightly more cryptiote, I suggest y flowers. I realize this may sound peculiar. However, I assure you there is a purpose to this request, ohat will bee clear during our meeting. Let us just say, that sometimes the simplest of gestures have the most profound of meanings.