This was the first time Tony had seen Aaron in person. He was different from the man in the S.H.I.E.L.D. file. Although his face was pale, he wasn't as terrifying as the rumors suggested. In fact, Tony couldn't sense any powerful aura from him at all. He seemed like a simple painter, an ordinary person.
But Tony had seen the video with his own eyes—a man suspended in mid-air, surrounded by hundreds of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents with their guns drawn, yet still effortlessly killing Minister Pierce.
"Mr. Aaron? You knew I was coming?" Tony asked cautiously. In this room, he knew that even if he summoned his Iron Man armor, it would be useless. The small, angelic figures floating around gave him a strange sense of comfort, as if he could give up everything and just stay there quietly forever.
Aaron smiled faintly, watching Tony. Then he waved his hand, and the images of the angels disappeared.
"You're the first person to visit my studio. You're in luck; you'll get to see the completion of a new work," he said.
"A work?" Tony's interest was piqued, and he walked toward Aaron.
The studio's atmosphere was serene. Although it was inside the gallery, he couldn't hear any of the outside noise. As he got closer to Aaron, Tony could even hear the sound of the blood flowing in his own body.
Aaron paid no attention to Tony, quietly holding his brush and adding the final details to his painting.
As Tony approached, a terrifying aura suddenly appeared next to him, startling him. But the feeling was gone as quickly as it came. It was then that Tony finally saw the painting clearly.
This! This is...!
Tony gasped. He was a billionaire, not an art critic, but he could understand the content of this painting. The subject of the portrait was none other than himself!
"See? This painting is called 'Iron Man's Last Will'," Aaron said.
The painting was nearly finished, and Aaron was putting the final touches on the frame. He had specifically painted the contents for Tony. Aaron's power allowed him to foresee major events that would affect the world. This particular painting didn't exist until Tony stepped into the room.
From that moment on, Tony's fate was in Aaron's hands. Even the god of death of this world couldn't change it. Tony's life was effectively over. However, a small spark of light within him was holding on, keeping him from dying completely.
Tony didn't react at first. But then, he suddenly felt his body disappear from the studio, his consciousness pulled into the painting itself!
"Go and experience the taste of death," Aaron said with a smile, standing up and walking out of the room.
Tony's soul had been pulled from his body—a feat only a god could accomplish.
When Tony's consciousness reformed, he found himself in a desolate, ruined world. Not far away, a figure who looked exactly like him lay on the ground.
"J.A.R.V.I.S.?"
"J.A.R.V.I.S.!" Tony shouted in horror. But there was no response.
Time was still moving, but Tony couldn't feel his own heartbeat.
Under the rubble, the body of the man who was his twin lay still. A few people stood around it, mourning his death.
I'm dead? I actually died in battle?
Looking at the ruins, it was clear that a cataclysmic event had happened in a future he didn't understand. And even he, Tony Stark, was powerless to stop it.
Are those people around my body also superheroes? Who are they? And how did I die?
Just as Tony tried to get closer to his body, he was suddenly pulled back into the original world. Everything he had just experienced felt like a dream. He was lying on the sofa, with Aaron standing over him, watching quietly.
"How much for that painting? I'll buy it," Tony said, standing up abruptly. He stared at Aaron, but when their eyes met, he couldn't bring himself to say the cruel words on the tip of his tongue.
"Are there conditions?"
"Conditions?" Aaron replied slowly. "What about your life?"
"My life?"
"That's right, your life. The value of this painting is your life. Do you want to trade it?"
As Aaron spoke, an aura so dense it could be felt in the air radiated from him. Tony could feel it clearly. If he dared to say no, he might not make it out of this room alive.
"I..."
Just as he was about to speak, a golden scale slowly materialized out of thin air.
"Come on, let's see if your life is worth this painting."
(End of Chapter)
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