Chapter 135
Inside the office, Potts found herself unconsciously edging away from Natasha.
She couldn't help it—"Red Room," "killing scientists," "stealing technology"—looking at Natasha's face, she realized this woman had been trained to get close to people like Tony. With her beauty, it would be easy for her to get near him… and kill him.
Natasha noticed the movement. Her jaw tightened.
"I work for S.H.I.E.L.D.," she said finally, her tone controlled but quieter than usual. "The Red Room… is my past. I'm here because I make sure people like him—" she flicked her eyes at Luthar "—don't get too close to you."
Luthar tilted his head, his mechadendrites curling lazily in the air like metal serpents.
"Protect her from me?" he asked, voice calm and oddly amused. "If I wanted her dead, you wouldn't be able to do anything."
Natasha forced herself to stay calm, though her pulse betrayed her.
"…If you know that much," she said carefully, "then tell me—where is the Red Room?"
Luthar's augmented eye glimmered faintly.
"Instead of telling you," he said, his voice humming like a servo, "I can take you to the Red Room. Once I return from my trip, I still need to pick them up."
Natasha's hand twitched, but she forced herself to stay still.
Before anyone could respond, the glass trembled with a faint vibration. A distant whine grew louder—then the windows lit up in a gold-red reflection.
Iron Man landed on the balcony with a heavy thud, repulsors whining as he straightened up.
The faceplate retracted, revealing Tony Stark's grim expression.
"Well," Tony said, glancing at the room, "looks like someone came without an invitation." His eyes narrowed at Luthar. "I need to tell you—you have to leave this place."
Luthar turned his head slowly, almost dismissively.
"Then give me what I need," he said. "I do not enjoy wasting my time in small places like this."
Tony took a slow step forward, his armor plates clicking into a defensive posture.
"See, here's the thing," he said, voice dripping with forced casualness. "I don't negotiate with terrorists—even if they're from space. If you want to play a scary space priest? Do it somewhere else."
Luthar didn't flinch. His mechanical eye fixed on Tony with the weight of a predator sizing up prey.
"I am not here to negotiate. I am here to collect what is owed. If you cannot deliver what I want, I don't mind doing it manually."
Natasha's eyes flicked between them, her stance loose but ready. She had faced gods, killers, and monsters—but Luthar was different. He didn't posture. He didn't bluff. He simply existed in the room, and it felt like standing at the edge of an engine's exhaust port—one wrong move, and everything would burn.
Pepper swallowed, her knuckles white against the desk. "Tony…" she whispered, almost inaudible.
For a long moment, only the faint whir of repulsors and augmetics filled the air. Then Luthar's mechadendrites retracted slightly, as if the predator had grown momentarily bored.
"Very well," he said finally, turning toward the balcony. His voice was cold and clinical. "By the time I come back from my trip, if I do not see my materials, I will not mind making your little company go bankrupt."
Without another word, Luthar stepped onto the balcony.
The Drop-Wing Skimmer decloaked in a shimmer of silver and shadow. Luthar stepped aboard, the vehicle lifting smoothly into the night sky. Within seconds, it was gone, leaving only the quiet hum of New York traffic below and a room that suddenly felt far too small.
Tony let out a slow breath, his face hard.
"…I hate that guy," he muttered.
Natasha's gaze lingered on the night sky where the Skimmer had disappeared.
"…You should," she said quietly. "But now we have a bigger problem. Giving him what he wants is dangerous… and not giving him is also dangerous."
She pulled out her phone and called Fury to inform him of the situation.
For a moment, the only sound in the office was Natasha speaking in clipped tones and the faint whine of Tony's armor powering down.
Pepper slowly sank into her chair, her hands still trembling slightly.
"…who is he ?"
Tony lifted his helmet off, tossing it onto a nearby table. His face was drawn tight.
"That," he said flatly, " a terrorist pretending to be a priest."
Pepper's voice trembled as she finally found her words.
"How did you even… get involved with him when you know he is a terrorist?"
Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"It started in Afghanistan. I attacked him first." He gave a humorless laugh. "That went about as well as you'd expect. He captured me, and the only reason I'm here is because I agreed to his terms—materials worth twenty billion. Paid in full. That was supposed to be the end of it."
Pepper stared at him.
"Twenty billion? I need to remind you that's not the amount you have in your bank."
"I didn't have any choice, so I agreed that time," Tony said defensively, gesturing with his hands. "But then he started kidnapping people. Civilians. That's when I stepped in again. I thought… if I could stop him, maybe we could end this before he does something terrible."
"You attacked him again," Pepper said quietly.
Tony hesitated. "…Yeah. And I lost. Again. Then we have—Harlem, the Abomination, where he shows off his transformed zombies.
if that wasn't bad enough, now he has a very big spaceship.If I'm not wrong, he may have also stolen the technology of Pym Particles, because I don't see any other reason for that ship to appear and disappear."
Natasha crossed her arms, her face unreadable. "Then it's time you stop thinking small and start working with S.H.I.E.L.D. We can't handle this alone."
Pepper's hands gripped the arms of her chair. "I just… I can't believe we're in this mess. He threatened to—" She broke off, shaking her head. "I don't even want to think about what he wants to do with the Red Room."
Natasha didn't answer. Her face was carved from stone.
Tony exhaled, walking to the window. Below, New York glittered peacefully, completely unaware that a predator had flown over its skies tonight. "If S.H.I.E.L.D. wants to step in, they better step in fast," he muttered. "Before he builds enough force to overthrow everyone."
Chapter 136
The Drop-Wing Skimmer slipped back into the hidden shaft, vanishing as silently as it had risen.
Luthar stepped off the platform, the familiar scent of metal and ozone greeting him like an old companion. His underground base hummed with life—servo-arms gliding along the walls, machinery cycling power, and the faint glow of the bioreactor vats deep in the lower levels.
He ignored them for now, striding toward the central command alcove. With a flick of his mechadendrites, the holo-projector bloomed to life, displaying the gaunt face of Anton Vanko and the smirking, restless Ivan behind him.
"Lord Luthar," Anton said, bowing slightly. "Were you able to get the materials?"
"No," Luthar replied, his voice calm and even. "It is time to remind him he is mortal—and that he cannot defy the will of the Omnissiah."
Ivan leaned forward, eager. "You want him dead?"
"No," Luthar said. "Not yet. I want something that will bleed his time and resources… and strip away the illusion that he is special."
He gestured, and the holo shifted to show an armored silhouette—humanoid, but bulkier than Iron Man, with exposed mechanical joints and angular plating.
"A copy," Luthar said. "Close enough to mock his technology, but crude enough that it will never threaten us. Build it. Test it. Release it where it will hurt him most—his pride."
Anton hesitated. "And the power source?"
Luthar's mechadendrites uncoiled, presenting a small, glowing core. "Use the arc reactor. Show the world he is not the sole owner of this technology."
Ivan's smirk widened. "Looks like we're going to have a lot of fun."
Luthar leaned back, his augmetic eye glimmering as the first pieces of his distraction fell into place. Tony Stark would have his little battle… and in doing so, he would be forced to improve his technology.
Which he could copy for himself to improve his knowledge.
As Luthar turned away from the Vankos,
He moved through the corridors toward his private sanctum. This chamber was quieter, intimate in a way only a Tech-Priest could appreciate. Servo-skulls drifted along the vaulted ceiling, their optic lenses glowing faint red as they tracked their master. Along the walls, lumen strips pulsed in a slow heartbeat rhythm, the air thick with the scent of machine oil and warm circuitry.
A single cogitator altar dominated the far wall, its crystalline keys shimmering with faint energy readings.
With a gesture, one of his mechadendrites activated the holo-projector. A soft chime announced the connection, and a small, smiling face appeared in the light.
"Lily Ruca, reporting!" she said cheerfully, giving a tiny salute. Behind her, the faint silhouettes of Skitarii warriors loomed, their glowing optics steady and unblinking.
"Good," Luthar said, his tone measured and deliberate. "Once I leave this world, command falls to you. The Skitarii and the defenses—are they ready?"
Lily's head bobbed quickly. "Mmh! Patrols are active, the turrets are on standby, and I set the anti-air batteries to auto-engage. If anyone knocks on our door, I can… well, either shoot them or push the big red button to jump home." She paused, tilting her head. "I like the shooting option better."
A faint vibration of amusement passed through Luthar's mechadendrites. "If the threat is minor, eliminate it. If not, use the return device. The Omnissiah favors swift action, not hesitation."
"Understood!" Lily chirped, spinning in her chair to show him the defensive schematic. "Everything is green. Even the plasma array is charging."
"Good." He leaned slightly closer, his augmetic eye glimmering in the holo's light. "If anything happens while I am away, you will hold this fortress while the time is small, but this world is far to dangerous, so be careful."
Lily straightened in her chair, serious now. "Don't worry, nothing would go wrong, I promise!"
Satisfied, Luthar cut the transmission. The holo collapsed into darkness, leaving him alone with the soft hum of machinery. He turned his gaze toward the cogitator altar, reviewing the multiversal energy readings one last time.
Everything was ready. Soon, he would depart this world, and when he returned, the first temple on Mars would finish the final check back at the staff Tower. The office still felt cold after Luthar's departure.
Pepper was quietly sitting on the chair, and Natasha's gaze remained fixed on the skyline, where the stars seemed suddenly closer—and more dangerous.
Tony tapped a control on his wrist, summoning a holographic interface. "Jarvis, call Fury."
"Right away, sir."
A moment later, Nick Fury's image appeared in the center of the office, projected in flickering blue. His single eye narrowed.
"Stark. I assume this is about the visitor who just made NORAD lose their minds?"
"Yeah," Tony said flatly. "Luthar. He just waltzed into my office again and demanded more nukes-on-a-stick. If we don't give him what he wants, he's gonna 'collect differently.'"
Fury exhaled slowly. "I already have S.H.I.E.L.D. on alert, but frankly, Stark…at least for now, we cannot touch before my friends give me the complete analysis of Luthar."
"Well, looks like someone's going to do his homework," Tony muttered, glancing toward the balcony where the Skimmer had hovered like a ghost. "He's got a spaceship, he disappears whenever he wants, as with other things, you already know, the only place we have the advantage over the AI."
Natasha finally turned from the window. "Then what's your plan?"
Tony's gaze hardened. "I build something new. Something he can't ignore, especially with AI and new weapons specially targeting him."
Pepper frowned. "Another suit?"
"Not just a suit," Tony said, bringing up a holographic schematic. A rotating image of a heavy modular frame appeared—bulkier than any Iron Man armor she had ever seen, with multiple hardpoints for heavy weaponry. "I call it… Project Goliath. First piece of a bigger plan."
Fury leaned forward in the projection. "Stark, you sure poking this bear is smart?"
Tony's eyes didn't leave the schematic. "Don't worry, you don't plan to get caught on again, so this is just a one plan, and I am still preparing for a bigger plan."
·
TPM Chapter 137 to 138
6 Aug
Chapter 137: Back in the dungeon world
The Nexus Gate's energy finally bled off as the last shimmer of light died across its spiraling glyphs.
Luthar stepped down from the central platform, boots striking the polished metal floor with soft, precise clicks. The air of the sub-level lab carried the familiar scents of ionized metal and hot circuitry—the signature fragrance of his domain.
He drew a small timepiece from one of his mechadendrites—a modified chrono-interface, its surface etched with tiny sacred sigils.
21:04.
A faint hum passed through his chest as he confirmed the calculation.
"Twenty-four hours is enough for a buffer," he murmured, his voice almost drowned by the background thrum of generators.
Since time between worlds did not truly exist, every return carried a theoretical risk: he might arrive at the exact moment he had left. Two identical bodies, occupying the same time and space, would be inevitable.
Even if that unlikely catastrophe did not occur, the scenario was no less hazardous. Imagine preparing to depart for another world, only for a future self to arrive in the same instant. Temporal paradoxes were inefficient problems—the kind even he had no desire to calculate.
Some experiments, he decided long ago, were best left untested.
Satisfied with everything, he replaced the device and ascended the spiral stairway toward the upper floor of the church.
The hall greeted him with cold silence, golden circuitry etched into the walls like sacred veins. Lumen-strips pulsed in a slow rhythm, casting the church in a holy machine-light.
Luthar moved through the halls methodically, checking the rooms one by one.
Hephaestus's small chamber—empty.
No soft flicker of divine flame.
Freya's quarters—also empty. Only the faint, lingering trace of her perfume confirmed she had been here at all.
His augmetic eye pinged quietly, confirming what his other senses already told him: no divine presence detected.
Luthar paused in the middle of the upper hall, his gaze sweeping across the silent rooms.
"An empty church," he muttered, his voice even, almost clinical. "Inefficient… and dangerous. A single thief could walk in and take what they please."
He turned his head slightly, scanning the reinforced doors and defensive traps he had installed. None of them had been triggered.
After finishing his checks, Luthar stepped out into the night air, the city's uneven streets glistening faintly under scattered lanterns. The transformation of the Crimson Church had already drawn attention; passersby whispered and quickened their steps, some crossing the street entirely to avoid walking too close.
Murmurs rippled through the quiet district:
"Is that… the rad priest?"
"He looks… weird. Why does he have those moving tentacles?"
"Who knows—but I heard he has very powerful magic weapons."
Luthar ignored them all. His mechadendrites swayed in subtle rhythm as he walked, the faint clinking of metal tips on cobblestone marking his presence. A child peeked around a corner, wide-eyed, before his mother yanked him back into the safety of their home.
Then he neither slowed nor sped up. The world outside his calculations was simply… background noise.
By the time he reached Hephaestus's workshop, his thoughts had already shifted toward the future. The wide door was half-closed, light from the forge spilling out in a warm, molten glow. Sparks leapt into the air, and the rhythmic clang of hammer on metal carried a steady pulse into the night.
He entered without knocking.
Hephaestus looked up from her anvil, her red hair tied back in a practical knot, eyes gleaming gold in the light of the forge. For a moment, her expression froze—not in fear, but in a sharp, measuring surprise.
She took in the sight of him: the layered crimson robes catching the forge light, his mechanical limbs swaying behind him like a halo of iron serpents. Three new mechadendrites had joined the older ones, their tips gleaming with specialized tools—a plasma cutter, a fine manipulator claw, and a newly forged rotary drill still bearing fresh polish.
"…I thought you weren't coming back," she said finally, her voice carrying a mixture of curiosity and mild wariness.
Luthar inclined his head slightly. "That's not possible. This place is still good—there is no pollution. It's a perfect place to relax."
One of his mechadendrites picked up a cooling ingot from her workbench without conscious effort. He rotated it slowly in the light, scanning it before setting it down with precise care.
Hephaestus folded her arms, tilting her head. "You didn't have that many last time. Most adventurers would call that… intimidating."
"Intimidation is a side effect," Luthar said evenly, his tone entirely neutral. "Utility is the purpose."
A faint metallic clatter echoed in the background as one of his older mechadendrites coiled and uncoiled idly, tasting the air like a mechanical serpent.
From the far corner, one of Hephaestus's assistants—an apprentice with soot-smudged cheeks—peeked at the doorway, then quickly ducked out of sight.
Hephaestus caught the motion and sighed. "I guess I should also get some. It would make my job easier."
Luthar turned his augmented eye toward the half-finished weapon on her anvil. "That would be difficult. It's hard to add implants to a divine body made of pure energy… but I believe we can figure out something else."
Luthar's gaze shifted from the unfinished weapon to Hephaestus herself. One mechadendrite lazily coiled around a support beam, its tip glinting in the forge-light.
"Anything of note while I was away?" he asked finally. "The city… the Familia… any disturbances in the last day?"
Hephaestus shook her head. "Quiet. Too quiet, maybe. No guild inspectors, no adventurers nosing around. Either people are avoiding this place… or they're watching from a distance."
"Observation without action is tolerable," Luthar said evenly. "Interference is not. But the empty church is inefficient. If I am gone for a day, a thief could walk in and steal something trivial—or stumble into something they should not see."
Her brow furrowed. "I was thinking the same. One day might not be long, but it's still an opportunity. If word gets out that the church is empty, someone will test their luck."
Luthar's mechadendrites clicked softly as he considered. "Solution?"
"I'll borrow a few of Loki's children," Hephaestus said after a pause. "Her Familia has eyes all over the city. They can keep watch for a day. And if Freya lends some of hers as well, no one will dare approach."
Luthar nodded once. "Acceptable. If a threat emerges, alert me immediately through the device I left in the church. I will return before anything critical occurs."
The forge fire crackled between them. Hephaestus crossed her arms, studying his new mechadendrites again.
"Then tomorrow, we leave?"
"Yes," Luthar said, his voice like tempered steel. "One day is enough for all three of us to make our arrangements. After that… we move forward."
Chapter 138 – Drinks, Deals, and Double Dates
The tavern was alive with warmth and noise, the smell of roasted meat and spilled ale hanging heavy in the air. Mortals laughed and shouted over card games, their boots scuffing the floorboards, oblivious to the small booth tucked away in the corner—a booth that only gods dared occupy.
Hephaestus sat stiffly against the wooden bench, one hand wrapped around a mug she hadn't touched. Her crimson hair gleamed in the lamplight, but her golden eye remained sharp and calculating.
Across from her lounged Loki, a foxlike grin plastered on her face as she swirled her glass of wine lazily. She seemed perfectly at home here, stretching her long legs under the table as if she owned the place.
"So," Loki began, her voice dripping mischief, "you're telling me you want my kids to play guard dogs for an entire day while you and your… friend disappear?"
Hephaestus's jaw tightened. "Yes."
"Oh-ho~. I can do that. But…" Loki tilted her head, her red hair falling over one shoulder. "…it's gonna cost you. Triple the usual fee."
"Triple?" Hephaestus said flatly.
"Mm-hmm. My Familia is the best in Orario. Even one day of protection is worth a small fortune. And besides…" Loki's grin widened as her eyes glinted with amusement. "…I might use that money to order a shiny new toy from a certain metal-obsessed redhead. Or maybe some custom armor for my children. Or both!"
Hephaestus gave her a flat, unimpressed look. "You're extorting me."
"I'm a businesswoman," Loki corrected sweetly. "And a brilliant one."
Before Hephaestus could respond, a soft laugh floated from behind her.
"Ladies, really. No need to squabble over something so small."
The two gods turned to see Freya, silver hair cascading like moonlight over her shoulders, gliding toward their booth with a smile that could make mortals forget their own names. She slid into the bench beside Hephaestus without waiting for an invitation, her perfume subtly shifting the air.
"I'll handle the security of church and the shop and even live some extra for your own workshop," Freya said, her voice smooth and unhurried. "My children will keep watch I make sure nobody touches anything which they shouldn't."
Hephaestus blinked. "…You'll handle it?"
"Mm." Freya rested her chin on her hand, a glimmer of amusement in her violet eyes. "The Freya Familia has enough eyes in the city to watch a single church without effort. Your forge can rest easy, Hephaestus."
Loki, however, narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "We're away?" she echoed. "You're making it sound like you two are sneaking off together. Let me guess…" Her grin turned positively wicked. "…Luthar's involved."
Hephaestus said nothing, her expression neutral.
Freya only smiled wider. "Of course. We're having a little private outing."
Loki blinked, leaning forward. "…Private outing?"
"A double date," Freya said lightly, as if commenting on the weather. "A very secret, very exclusive trip. Just the three of us…and maybe next time you saw we would already be married."
The tavern seemed to pause for a moment. A nearby adventurer dropped a fork, and the clatter snapped Loki out of her disbelief.
"You—" Loki sputtered, pointing an accusatory finger at Hephaestus. "—are going on a double date with Freya and a walking scrap pile? And even plan to marry him!"
"well marriage with Luther doesn't sounds that bad it just I haven't seen his face."Hephaestus said .
Freya's smile turned downright luminous, as if savoring Loki's irritation. "Oh, Hephaestus, I think we are going to have enough time to remove that mask, by the way let's go and talk somewhere else I don't think we need to make Loki's jealous"
"Jealous?!" Loki's tail—if she had one—might have been bristling. "I just want to know what in the nine hells you're actually planning! I am not awesome full who don't understand Luther might be interesting but he isn't ideal partner for marriage."
"that shouldn't be your problem," Hephaestus interrupted, voice sharp but quiet. "We leave tomorrow, originally I wanted to hire your children but looks like we can only use Freya's children plus my children should be enough."
Loki froze mid-sentence. Her instincts told her they were telling the truth… and also that she was completely out of the loop. For a goddess like her, that was intolerable.
" what nonsense are you talking why don't we talk it again I think I could reduce the price by 50% + I don't think you should bother Freya's children those guys are not reliable " she said while squinting she didn't want the free money run away if see new the Freya's is also involve she wouldn't coated the three times the price.
Freya sipped her wine, unbothered. "no need we are just going for one day and if somebody really does to do anything I can only pray for their souls once we come back."
Hephaestus finally took a sip of her own drink, as if punctuating the conversation. "We only need your children if you insist on being paid. Otherwise, Freya's people can handle everything."
"Tch…" Loki leaned back, a sly grin curling her lips. "…Fine. But next time you sneak off with that red-robed weirdo, I'm coming along. I want a front-row seat—and maybe a few pointers. Gotta know the best way to… wear him out if I ever get my turn."
Freya's laughter chimed like silver. "We'll see, Loki. We'll see."
By the time the meeting ended, the plan was set:
Freya's Familia would cover the church for a day.
Loki would pretend to be grumpy but secretly sniff and keep the notes if something really happens.
And Luthar would make sure nothing went wrong. To ensure his journey with the goddesses went smoothly, he worked in the church's basement, shaping new devices with precise, patient hands.
After hours of quiet labor, he examined the two small constructs. They pulsed faintly, runes and circuits glimmering in the dim light. A final adjustment clicked into place.
Silent. Perfect.
Authors note: basically the chapters got accidentally deleted now I am trying to fix the situation