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XGO V2 CHAPTER 7 : Of Fathers, Files, and Frailties.
🕑 Added 2025-06-04 15:55:21 +0000 UTCThe faint scent of ozone and something unplaceably alien lingered in Tony Stark’s Malibu workshop long after Alex’s swirling portal had snapped shut, leaving an unnerving silence in its wake. Tony, who had taken an involuntary step forward as if to call Alex back, now just stood there, staring at the empty space, his mind reeling. A six-inch, grey-skinned, hyper-intelligent alien frog had just eviscerated his life’s work, lectured him on heroism using some other universe’s kid as an example, and then vanished, leaving him with cryptic, infuriating advice about his dead father. And the kid who’d brought the frog, that strange, powerful, and utterly baffling young CEO, had backed the frog’s play before disappearing himself.
It was a lot to process, even for Tony Stark.
He finally slumped down onto a nearby leather couch, the expensive material sighing under his weight. He ran a hand over his face, the bravado he’d tried to maintain in front of Alex and Azmuth now completely gone, leaving behind a raw, gnawing fear. The palladium poisoning was a ticking clock, and the hands were moving faster every day.
"So… that happened," Rhodey said, finally lowering his M9, though he still held it loosely at his side, his eyes scanning the lab as if expecting more miniature aliens to pop out of the vents. He looked at Tony, his expression a mixture of bewilderment, concern, and no small amount of residual anger. "A talking frog, interdimensional kid-slash-corporate-overlord, and a lecture on your daddy issues. Just another Tuesday at Stark Mansion, huh?"
Tony snorted, a humorless sound. "What's that supposed to mean?" he muttered, staring blankly at the holographic schematics of the arc reactor still glowing nearby. "Go through my father's work? Find something that may not even exist? Based on what, that little green guy’s cosmic guesses? He basically called me an idiot and then told me to go on a scavenger hunt."
Rhodey holstered his weapon and walked over to the couch, perching on the armrest. "Look, Tones, I know it's… a lot. And that little alien was a piece of work. But you heard him. You heard Alex. They both said it. Maybe… maybe it's worth a try." He gestured around the lab. "We could go through all the things your father worked on, the old junk, the archived files. Everything."
Tony scoffed, pushing himself up slightly. "Done that!" he said, his voice rising with frustration. "What do you think I did when I took over Stark Industries? I went through everything! Every project, every half-baked idea, every napkin scribble. The company was working on a hundred different things, but there was nothing, Rhodey! Nothing about a new element, nothing about a cure for palladium poisoning, nothing that could help me now!" He slammed a fist onto the couch cushion. "The man was a genius, but he was also a secretive bastard. If he had a solution, he took it to his grave."
Rhodey sighed, his anger from earlier softening into a weary concern for his friend. "Yeah, but Tony, you were looking at it from a business perspective back then, right? Looking for viable tech, for profit. You weren't looking for… this. For a hidden answer to a problem he might have foreseen but couldn't solve with the science of his time." He leaned forward. "I still think you should look again. Properly. It's not like Howard Stark to put something that important out in the open for any corporate stooge to see. Maybe he would have hidden it. But maybe he left a clue, something only you would understand."
Tony stared at him, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "Really, Platypus? Now you want us to look for clues? What do you think this is, some kind of noir detective movie? Are we Sherlock Holmes and Watson on the case of the missing element?" He shook his head. "This is insane."
"Look, man," Rhodey said, his voice earnest, "we have to start somewhere. If there's even a sliver of a hope, a one-in-a-million chance that Howard left something behind, we have to take it. What other options do you have right now?"
The unspoken answer hung heavy in the air: none.
Just then, the lab doors hissed open, and Pepper Potts walked in, her expression a carefully controlled mixture of efficiency and concern. Beside her, looking impeccably professional in a sharp business suit, was her new executive assistant, Natalie Rushman – or as Nick Fury knew her, Natasha Romanoff.
"Tony?" Pepper began, her eyes immediately taking in his pale face, the half-empty scotch glass on the workbench, and Rhodey’s grim expression. "JARVIS said you were… indisposed. Is everything alright? You missed the call with the Japanese energy consortium."
Tony instantly straightened, plastering on a weak version of his usual charming grin. "Pep! Natalie! Just, uh, a little brainstorming session with my favorite Colonel. Pushing the boundaries of science, you know how it is. World-saving stuff. Very hush-hush." He avoided her searching gaze. He couldn't let her know, not yet. The weight of his condition, the fear of what it would do to her, was a burden he was determined to carry alone, for as long as he could.
Pepper’s eyes narrowed slightly. She knew him too well. "Right. Well, Mr. Hammer is on line three, something about a presentation at the Expo, and he’s threatening to send a singing telegram if you don't pick up."
Tony shuddered theatrically. "Justin Hammer and a singing telegram? The horror. Okay, okay, I’ll deal with it." He stood, a little unsteadily, and clapped Rhodey on the shoulder. "We’ll, uh, pick this up later, buddy. Thanks for the… input."
Rhodey nodded, understanding the silent dismissal. "Anytime, Tony. Just… think about it, okay?" He gave Pepper a brief, reassuring nod and then headed for the door.
Once Rhodey was gone, Pepper turned back to Tony, her arms crossed, her expression softening into genuine worry. "Tony, what's really going on? You look terrible."
"Never better, Potts," he quipped, though his voice lacked its usual spark. "Just the usual stress of being a genius. It’s a tough gig. How's life as the big CEO treating you? Keeping all my unruly board members in line?"
Pepper sighed, the lines of fatigue around her eyes more pronounced. "It's… challenging. The quarterly reports are a nightmare, the R&D budget is spiraling, and apparently, someone authorized the purchase of three llamas for 'alternative energy research'." She shot him a pointed look.
Tony feigned innocence. "Llamas? Really? Fascinating. Must have been one of the interns. Very forward-thinking."
"Tony," Pepper said, her voice gentle but firm. "You can't keep burning the candle at both ends and in the middle. You need to take care of yourself." She stepped closer, her gaze searching his. "And if something is wrong, you need to tell me. We're in this together, remember?"
Her sincerity, her unwavering loyalty, was like a knife twisting in his already aching chest. He wanted to tell her, to share the burden, but the words wouldn't come. How could he tell her he was dying? How could he put that fear in her eyes?
"Look, Pep," he said, forcing a reassuring smile. "I know you can handle it. All of it. You're strong. You're brilliant. You're the best damn CEO Stark Industries has ever had." He reached out, his hand briefly touching her arm. "And even if something goes wrong, which it won't, you know I'm always here, right? I'll always be there to handle it. For Stark Industries. And for you."
Pepper looked at him, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, but she nodded. "Right." She hesitated, then seemed to make a decision. "Okay. Well, try to get some rest. And please, call Hammer back before he actually sends that mariachi band he threatened last time."
"Deal."
After Pepper and "Natalie" left, a heavy silence descended on the workshop again. Tony stood there for a long moment, staring at the spot where Alex had vanished. The kid’s words, Azmuth’s words, Rhodey’s words, they all echoed in his head. Go through your father's work. The roots.
He walked over to his main console, the arc reactor in his chest pulsing with a dull, persistent ache. He took a deep breath.
"JARVIS," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "Archive access. Howard Stark. All projects, all research notes, every file, every schematic. Personal logs too, if you can find them. The older, the better. The more obscure, the better."
"Accessing Stark Industries historical archives, sir," JARVIS replied, his voice calm, efficient. "This may take some time. Howard Stark's research archives are… extensive and somewhat erratically organized."
Tony sank into his chair, the weight of the world, of his own mortality, pressing down on him. He looked around the workshop, at the suits of armor, symbols of his genius, his power, his legacy. All of it, meaningless, if he couldn't solve this one, fundamental problem.
"Yeah, JARVIS," Tony said, staring at the blank screen that was slowly beginning to populate with file names, dates, and cryptic project titles from a bygone era. "I know. This is going to be a long night."
