Peter POV:
The New York branch of Stark Industries didn't look like a regular manufacturing facility anymore. Not with the scaffolding, steel arteries, and glowing conduits snaking through its bones. The old Stark logo was half-shrouded by construction sheeting, but a new name was already embossed on the reinforced titanium entry doors:
Parker Defense Solutions.
[Image]
Inside, the atrium had been gutted into a cathedral of engineering. The air pulsed with the deep, steady pulse of the pinch-fusion core sitting at the building's heart. It wasn't enormous, not reactor-sized. More like the beating heart of a giant. A transparent cylindrical chamber floated between two tower of superconducting coils, its white plasma swirling like a captured star.
[Image]
Surrounding it, robotic arms on ceiling tracks swept through the air, welding beams into place. A gantry of macro-assembler hands hoisted prefabricated components into position with the precision of surgeons.
Below, dozens of human technicians in orange safety vests moved like ants. Tightening bolts, threading cables, and slotting delicate wiring that no machine could yet handle.
On the mezzanine, Pepper Potts walked in her pressed suit, heels clicking sharp against steel. Tony sauntered next to her, hands in his pockets, sunglasses on despite the indoor glow. A red-haired secretary trailed behind with a sleek StarkPad hugged to her chest.
I was near the reactor dais, tightening a diagnostic module when Clanker's mechanical rasp announced.
"Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts have arrived."
I looked up. My gaze flicked past Tony and Pepper… and stopped. The secretary. Red hair. Sharp cheekbones. Polished poise. My eyes narrowed. A message to her to not do anything stupid.
Tony glanced between the reactor and the towering robotic assembly line, whistling low. "Oh-ho. Kid turned the Big Apple office into a build-a-bot factory. All that's missing is an ominous AI voice announcing doomsday sales."
Pepper shot him a look, then turned her gaze upward, watching the robotic arms swing a two-ton lithium triteride plate into place. "You weren't exaggerating, Peter. This is… monumental."
I dusted my hands and walked them closer to the fusion chamber. "Medium-sized pinch-fusion reactor. Gravitational containment. Hourly output equals the power draw of entire New York and Manhattan combined of an entire day but instead of just electricity, I can run it into the energy-to-matter converter."
I pointed at a huge cluster of crystalline lattice modules humming nearby.
[Image]
"That's where the magic happens. Energy gets reconfigured into molecular streams, then piped into the replicators. Each unit prints components down to the molecular level. Zero impurities. The macro-assembler hands take the parts, weld the frame. Humans handle micro-fits, screws, wiring."
"Division of labor." Pepper said approvingly.
"Or exploitation with extra steps." Tony quipped, peering at the robotic arms. "So the bots get the fun stuff while the humans are stuck doing IKEA assembly. How very… Silicon Valley of you."
I gave Tony an exasperated look. "Machines don't have fine tactile feedback at micron level yet. People do. And I pay them three times the industry standard."
Tony whistled. "Paying people? No wonder you're broke."
Pepper elbowed him lightly.
I ignored the jab. I moved to a glass partition showing the main production floor. "In two months, this building will output enough advanced drones, aircrafts and defense hardware to counter anything Wakanda or Talokan throws at us, if they decide to throw things at us."
At the mention of civilizations, Tony raised a brow. "Speaking of your hidden kingdoms, kid, you sure you didn't just Google 'lost civilizations' and slap Vibranium stickers on them?"
Before I could answer, my private comm buzzed.
"Peter?" Gwen's voice filtered in, slightly hushed.
I tapped my earpiece to put it in loud speaker. "What's wrong Gwen?"
"Uh, question." Gwen's tone was wry. "Do New Yorkers usually have super-stylish bald women in red armor tailing them across rooftops? Or is that a me-only deal?"
I exhaled. "…Describe them."
"Tall. Shiny obsidian black bead bracelets the size of golf balls stacked on their arms. Spears that look like they belong in a museum but probably stab like a tank round. And no hair. Like, zero. Not even a strand. I don't even think their scalps allow dandruff."
"Dora Milaje. Wakanda's royal guard." I said.
"Oh good. I was worried they were like… a very aggressive Girl Scout troop. Do they sell cookies? Because one of them looked like she could kill me with Thin Mints." Gwen joked in usual fashion.
Tony overheard and snorted into his palm. Pepper gave him a look that told him not to encourage her.
My voice hardened. "Don't engage, Gwen. If they don't touch you, you don't touch them. Just keep your sensors tuned. If they're here, it means Wakanda's paying attention."
"Copy that." Gwen said. "Although, full disclosure, one of them glared at me so hard I think my soul filed for early retirement. So… fun times."
The line clicked off.
Pepper's expression darkened. "If they've already sent their guard imside our city… then Wakanda knows something."
Tony rocked back on his heels, muttering. "Great. We're running a secret defense startup, building fusion-powered mech toys and now we've got Vibranium Amazons on rooftops. Just another Tuesday."
My gaze stayed on the glowing reactor, my gaze steel. "Then we build faster."
The hum of the fusion core deepened, as though agreeing with me.
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