Cherreads

Ironman x Franklin Richards

Sam_S_Mathew
7
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 7 chs / week.
--
NOT RATINGS
1.3k
Views
Synopsis
When the boundaries of science and cosmic power collide, two unlikely allies must stand together against an unstoppable threat. Tony Stark — the genius billionaire armored as Iron Man — faces his most dangerous challenge yet, one that technology alone cannot overcome. Enter Franklin Richards, a young man whose reality-shaping powers make him one of the most powerful beings in existence. As a catastrophic force threatens to unravel the fabric of Earth itself, Iron Man’s ingenuity and Franklin’s godlike abilities must combine in a fragile alliance. But with Stark’s reliance on logic and machines clashing against Franklin’s limitless imagination, the question remains: can man and cosmic power truly unite — or will their differences doom the world they’re fighting to save?
VIEW MORE

Chapter 1 - Chapter-1 The Fractured Dawn

The city of New York glittered beneath the night sky, a restless ocean of lights and motion that never truly slept. High above it all, in the Stark Tower penthouse, Tony Stark sat alone with a glass of scotch that he hadn't touched. The man who had once thrived on noise, attention, and adrenaline was unusually quiet, his gaze fixed not on the screens that surrounded him but on the faint shimmer of something far greater—a holographic projection of the Infinity Stones.

Six tiny orbs of pure cosmic energy rotated in slow motion, each radiating its unique frequency. The Mind Stone pulsed gold, the Space Stone glimmered blue, the Power Stone blazed violet, the Reality Stone burned red, the Soul Stone shone amber, and the Time Stone swirled green.

Tony had done the impossible once. He had wielded them all, snapping away Thanos and his endless army at the cost of his own life. Or so it should have been. Fate, however, had played its tricks. His consciousness—his very essence—had been preserved, not in heaven or hell, but in a body of his own making: an upgraded Iron Man suit fused with arcane Stark-tech designed to house his mind and the Stones themselves.

He wasn't alive in the traditional sense anymore. He wasn't dead either. He was something else—something he didn't fully understand.

And tonight, that uncertainty weighed on him.

"J.A.R.V.I.S.," Tony muttered, his voice carrying that familiar sharpness to hide the unease beneath. "Run the projection again. Overlay cosmic disturbances from the last seventy-two hours."

"Of course, sir," came the AI's refined reply. A cascade of golden threads appeared, interweaving across the map of the known universe. Energy surges, temporal distortions, and gravitational anomalies spiraled into one point, a nexus that pulsed with blinding intensity.

Tony leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "There you are. The source."

It wasn't Earth. It wasn't even within their galaxy. It was somewhere far more obscure, a desolate planet at the edge of known space.

And what unsettled him most wasn't the readings themselves. It was the presence he felt every time he looked at that data—a presence powerful enough to bend the fabric of creation.

Someone was out there. Watching. Waiting. 

Miles away, in a quiet study untouched by technology, Franklin Richards opened his eyes from meditation. His hair, a silvery cascade that caught the faint glow of moonlight, shimmered as if the cosmos itself whispered through each strand. He had grown—no longer the boy who once marveled at heroes but a being of raw Omega-level power, capable of rewriting reality itself.

Yet with such gifts came burden. He had seen futures collapse into ash, timelines break into infinite fragments, and civilizations burn because power unchecked always demanded balance.

For weeks, Franklin had felt it—an energy calling across the stars, an echo of willpower infused with something alien. He had ignored it at first, focusing instead on maintaining balance within his own multiverse experiments. But now the signal was too strong. Too purposeful.

And it terrified him.

His father, Reed Richards, had warned him never to follow such threads alone. But Franklin knew this wasn't something the Fantastic Four could handle. This wasn't science. This was destiny.

Standing, Franklin's aura rippled, distorting the air around him. His Omega power sang, mapping every possible outcome of what lay ahead. And in each version, one figure always appeared—encased in crimson and gold, eyes glowing with the light of the Stones.

Iron Man.

Back in Stark Tower, Tony secured the last plate of his armor into place. The stones hummed within their respective sockets, their resonance filling the chamber with a weight that seemed to press on reality itself.

As the Mind Stone locked into the forehead plate, Tony winced. It wasn't pain, not exactly—it was influence. Thoughts not his own brushed against his mind, visions of futures that flickered in and out like broken film reels. One in particular chilled him: himself and a boy, both standing against a tide of darkness that threatened to consume entire galaxies.

"Looks like I'm not drinking tonight," Tony muttered, masking his dread with dry humor. "Alright, J.A.R.V.I.S., plot a course to…" He hesitated, eyes locked on the glowing nexus. "That rock in the middle of nowhere."

"As you wish, sir. Shall I notify the Avengers?"

"No." His answer was sharp. Too sharp. "This isn't their fight. It's mine."

He knew he was lying to himself. Deep down, Tony Stark understood the truth: the stones hadn't been preserved in him by accident. They had chosen him again for a reason. And whatever that reason was, it involved the presence he kept sensing in the periphery of his mind.

As the thrusters roared to life and the stars opened up before him, Tony Stark—Iron Man—hurtled across the void, unknowingly on a collision course with Franklin Richards.

And somewhere in the silence of the cosmos, destiny waited.

Franklin Richards stood alone in the silence of his study, though silence was a lie to someone like him. The universe was never quiet—not when you could hear its heartbeats, not when you could see its possible deaths. His powers tugged at him constantly, each strand of existence humming, bending, breaking, reforming.

And tonight, the song was wrong.

The signal pressed against him like a second pulse, steady and unyielding, pulling his attention outward. His omega abilities sought to trace its origin, and what he found unsettled him: a ripple of energy not born of chaos, but of intent. Someone was manipulating the structure of reality itself.

He pressed his palms together and closed his eyes. Threads of futures unfolded in blinding flashes. In one, cities crumbled under crimson skies. In another, armies of shadows marched across barren landscapes, devouring all in their path. In every vision, the same figure appeared—armor of red and gold, eyes lit with the fury of six burning suns.

Iron Man.

Franklin inhaled sharply, breaking the vision before it consumed him. He had known Tony Stark. Brilliant, arrogant, reckless—but ultimately heroic. The man who had once stood among gods and saved existence with nothing more than willpower and iron. But the Tony Stark Franklin saw now… was different. Infused with power that no man should hold.

He knew he had no choice.

From the bookshelf beside him, Franklin lifted an old journal—a gift from his father. Reed Richards had filled it with calculations, sketches, and dire warnings about the nature of infinity. Scrawled in his father's neat handwriting was one reminder Franklin had never forgotten:

"Every tool, every power, every miracle is also a weapon. Even you, my son."

Franklin's hand tightened around the journal. The warning had never felt heavier.

"Father," Franklin murmured to the empty room, "I think you already knew this day would come."

Without another word, his aura flared, swallowing the study in shimmering silver light. Walls bent, furniture dissolved, and space itself folded around him. With a thought, Franklin tore a hole in the veil of the cosmos and stepped through.

Meanwhile, Tony Stark was already halfway across the galaxy.

The hum of the Infinity Stones filled the suit's interior with a rhythm that refused to be ignored. Each stone carried its own voice: the whisper of time, the scream of power, the song of reality. It was like piloting with six copilots, each demanding control of the wheel.

"Sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. spoke softly, as if aware of the tension. "Your vital signs are fluctuating. Neural activity is peaking beyond human parameters."

Tony smirked, though the gesture carried no joy. "Guess that makes me not-so-human anymore, huh?"

The AI hesitated, a rare pause. "Do you believe that troubles you?"

Tony's eyes narrowed. "I believe it terrifies me."

The HUD flared with warnings. Approaching destination. Gravitational distortions off the charts. Atmospheric density unstable.

As the planet loomed into view, Stark tightened his gauntleted fists. It was a barren wasteland, cracked and lifeless, yet pulsing faintly with energy that no rock should hold. Something had bled into it, a resonance echoing with the same frequency as the Stones themselves.

Tony descended. The thrusters screamed, heat flaring as the suit adapted to the volatile atmosphere. Dust erupted around him as he landed, the ground quaking beneath the weight of armored boots powered by gods.

"Alright, mystery caller," Tony muttered. "Let's see who's been messing with my schedule."

The stones vibrated, as if aware. As if responding to something near.

And then, across the empty horizon, the silver glow appeared. Not a ship. Not a weapon. A figure.

Franklin Richards.

The air between them shimmered, unstable, as if reality itself hesitated. Franklin's silver aura flared brighter with every heartbeat, rippling like the surface of a disturbed lake. Tony's armor hummed in response, the Infinity Stones thrumming with power that no man—or child—should bear.

Franklin raised a hand, not in aggression but instinct. Threads of probability and futures twisted around his fingers, coalescing into faint, ghostly images of what could happen. Cities crumbled. Stars died. Universes unraveled. And at the center of it all, Iron Man hovered—glowing, armored, unstoppable.

Tony raised a gauntlet, the Power Stone pulsing violently. "Kid," he said, voice echoing through the suit's comm, "I don't know if you know what you're playing with. These Stones—they'll burn you alive if you don't control them."

Franklin's eyes glimmered, an otherworldly silver that seemed to see every possibility at once. "I know exactly what I'm doing, Tony. And you… you've gone too far. I felt it. Your mind, the Stones—you're not just wielding them. They're bending you."

The wind howled across the barren wasteland of the planet, carrying whispers of futures yet unmade. Franklin's aura expanded, silver threads reaching out like tendrils of light, brushing against Tony's armor. He saw flashes of Stark's mind: fear, determination, and the faintest hint of doubt.

Tony's gauntlet flared with raw energy. "You think you can judge me? You're a child playing with the fate of the multiverse. I've lived through gods and monsters, kid. And now I'm here to stop whatever's trying to twist this reality apart."

Reality bent between them. Franklin's aura clashed against the Stones' resonance, sparks of cosmic energy igniting the air. Time itself stuttered, slowed, and twisted around their presence. Franklin felt every possible outcome—every battle, every death, every victory—folding into one chaotic symphony.

He didn't want to fight Tony. Not really. But the world—or worlds—depended on balance. And the balance was fragile.

"Then don't," Franklin whispered, and in an instant, the ground beneath Tony's boots cracked. Steel twisted. Energy spiraled. The young mutant's power wasn't destructive—it was inevitability incarnate. For every action Tony Stark might take, Franklin foresaw the consequence.

Tony gritted his teeth. "Kid… don't make me do this."

A pulse of energy shot from Franklin's hands, and Tony instinctively raised a shield of gold and crimson. The Infinity Stones flared, each stone resisting, screaming, bending—but not breaking. Around them, the very fabric of the planet's atmosphere rippled, distorting into impossible geometries.

"I don't want to," Franklin said again, silver light wrapping around him like a cloak. "But if you won't step back… then I have no choice."

And then, with a thought, Franklin warped the air between them. The world split in two—one half frozen in time, the other dissolving into threads of energy. Tony's voice echoed in the fragmentation, a mixture of awe and fear: "Impossible… you're rewriting reality!"

"I'm not rewriting," Franklin corrected, his voice calm, almost sorrowful. "I'm restoring the balance. And you… you've tipped it too far."

The winds of probability howled louder, carrying echoes of every timeline ever lost or corrupted. Stark felt the Stones tug at him, resisting, pleading. He understood in that instant—this wasn't a fight of power. It was a fight of inevitability. Franklin wasn't just the Omega-level mutant. He was the fulcrum.

And tonight, the universe—or at least this corner of it—would pivot on his decision.