In Marvel With Unique Skill Great Sage (MCU) [100]

Ivan Vanko wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. He glared pure hatred at Stark, then spat a glob of bloody saliva onto the pavement near Stark's armored feet. "Pah! Thief! Butcher!"

His eyes burned with disgust. 'Thief' was his accusation against Stark's father, Howard, for stealing his own father's groundbreaking research. 'Butcher' was aimed at Tony himself, for building his fortune on weapons dealing.

Stark, inside the Iron Man suit, could only perform the mental equivalent of rolling his eyes. He was absolutely certain he'd never laid eyes on this guy before today. This was insane.

"Seriously?" Stark's voice came through the suit's external speaker, tinged with disbelief. "Besides the fact that I have no idea what you're talking about... I did just save your life, you know."

Finally, the Monaco police arrived, looking flustered but moving quickly now. They grabbed Vanko's arms, pinning them behind his back, and started hauling him away.

Even as they dragged him off, Ivan Vanko started laughing, a wild, unhinged sound that echoed across the suddenly quiet space. He strained against their grip, still yelling, his voice slowly fading as they pulled him further away.

"You'll regret this, Stark! Hah—hahahaha—You'll regret letting me live...!"

Stark, standing alone in the now-empty patch of pavement, raised one metal gauntlet and tapped it against his helmet with a hollow clang. Okay... what the actual hell was THAT all about?

….

"...And reports are calling him the 'Sky Knight,' a mysterious new superhero who bravely intervened, saving the life of Iron Man and countless innocent spectators during the shocking attack at the Monaco Grand Prix. Wherever you are, Sky Knight, the world sends its most heartfelt thanks!"

Back in his luxurious seaside villa, Lemu sat sprawled on a plush sofa, letting out a wide yawn. The news anchor's voice droned on from the large TV screen, the overly dramatic tone almost lulling him to sleep.

Superhero? Sky Knight? Lemu scoffed internally. Yeah, right. Someone else can have that title. Definitely not interested.

It had been several days since they returned from Monaco, and the events of that day were still making waves.

First, there was the public debut of his Ghost Armor. Because of its blue-and-white color scheme and the massive sword, some creative folks in the media had quickly dubbed it the "Sky Knight." Almost instantly, everyone assumed he was a new hero, probably a partner or teammate of Iron Man. His popularity surged, second only to Iron Man himself, earning widespread praise and fan attention.

Second, because Lemu made absolutely no effort to reveal his identity, the initial praise was slowly being joined by more suspicious speculation online and in darker corners of the web. People with too much time on their hands were trying to guess who he was and what his real motives might be.

Unbeknownst to Lemu, the Great Sage had already taken protective measures, quietly hacking and disabling the computers of quite a few individuals spreading particularly nasty rumors. It was her own silent way of looking out for him.

As for Ivan Vanko? Just as Lemu had predicted and perhaps subtly nudged along, news broke that Vanko had 'died' in a supposed electrical fire in his prison cell the very next day after his arrest. A convenient end. And, just as planned, the Great Sage immediately detected a man matching Vanko's exact description surface inside a Hammer Industries factory complex in Queens, New York.

Perfect, Lemu thought with a private, satisfied smirk. Work hard, Hammer. Work hard, Vanko! Build me my wonderful army of drones! Build the foundation for my future Iron Legion!

….

Inside a heavily restricted U.S. military base, security was tight. Armed guards stood posted every few yards, patrols marched back and forth with rifles ready. It screamed 'important business happening here'.

Inside a secure conference room, a group of high-ranking military officers were deep in discussion, talking about matters of national security and, naturally, power. Their tones were serious, filled with self-importance and what they believed was righteous purpose.

"...Look, the underlying technology is American! The potential benefits belong to the American people!" A trim, stern-looking Lieutenant General stood at the head of the long table, punctuating his words by rapping his knuckles sharply on the polished wood. He scanned the faces of the other officers present, his expression full of conviction. "Stark must hand over the Iron Man technology. It's painfully obvious that as a citizen, his priorities are not aligned with the best interests of his country!"

He leaned forward slightly, his voice hardening. "Tony Stark is selfish! He's hoarding a resource that could protect this nation! It's our duty to ensure this technology serves the greater good... and if that means we have to take it by force, then so be it!"

Colonel James Rhodes, sitting amongst the other officers, shifted uncomfortably. He shot a quick, uneasy glance towards the General, then subtly shook his head, his lips pressed into a thin line. Yeah, sounds great on paper, Rhodey thought bitterly. Wrap it up in patriotism, makes anything sound justified.

He stared down at the table for a moment, then let out a quiet sigh and raised his hand. "Sir," Rhodey said, his voice steady despite the tension in the room. "Requesting permission to make another attempt to persuade him. Let me talk to Tony again... Maybe I can get through to him."

The General narrowed his eyes, pointing a finger across the table directly at Rhodey. The gesture felt like a warning shot. "Rhodey, I'm well aware of your personal friendship with Stark," he said, his tone dangerously low. "Don't think for one second you can use that relationship to stall or obstruct this..."

Rhodey met the General's hard gaze directly, his own expression becoming grim and resolute. "Just give me a chance, sir. Let me try. If I don't make significant progress within one month," he stated firmly, "I will personally submit my resignation from the Air Force." In the US military, like in civilian life, officers could choose to retire or resign under certain circumstances. Rhodey was putting his entire career on the line.