The corridors of Stark Industries rarely felt tense. The walls were glass, the floors polished marble, and wealth hung in the air like a shield against discomfort. But today, beneath the quiet hum of electronics and distant footsteps, something restless stirred.
Pepper Potts moved with practice calm. She walked quickly but not hurriedly, clipboards pressed tight to her side, ID badge visible but unremarkable. The tension lived beneath her skin, unseen. In her coat pocket, the compact drive pulsed faintly—one of Stark's, loaded with enough stolen data to burn a company to the ground.
Her heels clicked softly as she approached Obadiah Stane's private office. She had minutes, at most.
Inside, the terminal glowed like a snake's eye. Supply manifests, black contracts, and weapons logistics were routed through subsidiaries no one was supposed to know existed. Worse still—blueprints. Not just for bombs. For armor. For something dangerously close to what Tony had built in that cave.
She inserted the drive. The progress bar moved slowly, crawling toward salvation while her heartbeat climbed toward panic.
The door clicked open.
"Ms. Potts."
Obadiah's voice was as smooth as the scotch he favored and twice as heavy. He smiled like a man already certain of victory.
Pepper straightened, masking the drive's presence with calm professionalism.
"Mr. Stane. I'm just here to pick something up for Tony."
Obadiah's gaze slid, unhurried, to the terminal. To the files displayed there—armament lists, prototypes, supply chains tied to places Tony Stark had publicly renounced. His smile didn't fade. The room simply grew colder by degrees.
"You're diligent," he said. "One of your better qualities."
He stepped closer.
Pepper didn't retreat.
"Tony wanted these files."
"Of course he did." Obadiah's voice held no anger. Only certainty.
"But it would have been better if he'd come himself. This room holds too many secrets."
She met his gaze without blinking.
"I'm just following instructions."
He didn't stop her from taking the files.
"I hope you have a good day." His words were soft, almost dismissive.
"Same to you, Mr. Stane."
Pepper left without looking back.
---
Below the office, the reinforced doors opened for Liliruca Arde. She moved with purpose, flanked by two figures.
Brock Rumlow stood beside her, calm and unreadable. His posture remained perfect, movements economical. Kara trailed behind, notebook clutched too tightly, eyes scanning everything like a trapped animal.
"I'm here for my appointment with Ms. Potts," Liliruca said.
Reception frowned. "I don't… see you listed for today."
"Then call her," Liliruca replied. "We spoke yesterday. She will remember."
The receptionist hesitated but nodded. "I'll notify Ms. Potts that you're here. Please, wait—"
"I would prefer not to wait long."
Across the lobby, Phil Coulson watched through reflective glass, eyes narrowing. He knew Rumlow—knew him well. The man wasn't supposed to be anyone's bodyguard, let alone this girl's. Kara, too, he filed away. Uncertainty demanded observation, not action.
---
Pepper nearly collided with Liliruca as she stepped off the elevator.
Kara stiffened. Rumlow subtly shifted into a shielding posture before catching himself.
"Oh—Ms…?"
"Liliruca Arde," she said. "We had a meeting. Concerning the acquisition of a chemical plant."
Pepper blinked, memory catching up through the fog of her crisis.
"Right. That message. The factory."
"Indeed."
They fell into step together, Kara and Rumlow trailing silently behind. The elevator doors closed.
Inside, the lighting was soft, the buttons glowing faintly like embers waiting to burn.
"You seem tense, Ms. Potts," Liliruca observed. "Difficult negotiations?"
Pepper forced a smile.
"Long day."
"It will be shorter if we conclude our matter now." Liliruca's tone remained light, but her meaning was firm.
"You have the paperwork prepared?"
Pepper didn't answer immediately. The elevator climbed. Lights flickered briefly—routine scans. Luthar's seeded systems registered their passage. Confirmed. Logged.
The doors opened onto a quiet, neutral conference room.
Inside, Pepper produced the file—a simple transfer of industrial rights to the chemical plant. Nothing glamorous. Nothing strategic. Just an old site she didn't fully understand but was happy to offload.
"You're sure you want this?" Pepper asked.
Liliruca signed the documents without hesitation.
"Quite sure."
"If you give it more time, we can find you a better facility. You're getting a lot of liability with this one."
"I'm aware of the situation. It's old but usable. As for liability, I don't think we need to concern ourselves."
Pepper closed the folder.
"Then, done."
Liliruca rose, her expression unchanged.
"We won't trouble you further."
As they exited, Pepper exhaled slowly.
"I really don't know why Tony is acquiring things for you, but you shouldn't push too far. In just the last week, you've spent… twenty."
"This is merely compensation. If you have any concerns, you should speak to Tony." Liliruca said.
Rumlow opened the door without a word. Kara followed, pale and silent.
Coulson watched them leave. His eyes lingered not on Liliruca, nor Rumlow—but on Kara. Fear marked her steps more than discipline now.
"That looks like trouble," Coulson murmured.
"Yep," Pepper said quietly, already moving toward her next problem.
"Once we sort this out, I need to ask Tony why he's buying things for them."
---
As Liliruca exited the building, she placed the call. Her words were precise, her tone flat.
"It's done. The chemical plant is under our control."
On the other end, Luthar's voice is filtered through—calm, mechanical, unimpressed.
"That is good news. Anything else I need to know?"
"Minor things. SHIELD is sniffing around. Stark's assistant looks ready to collapse. Something's moving beneath the surface."
There was a pause. Then, with faint sarcasm:
"If you wish to amuse yourself watching men in flying armor beat each other to death, you may follow her. Otherwise, come back."
Liliruca's lips twitch, the faintest ghost of a smile.
"Understood. I'll return."
"See that you do."
The line cut.
Kara said nothing, though her expression screamed questions. Rumlow watched the streets, calculating threats. Neither mattered.
Liliruca stepped into the waiting car without another word. Orders were ordered.
Above them, in the shimmering towers of Stark Industries, another war was about to begin.