While Alex lay suspended in the hyperbaric chamber, his life hanging on the thin thread of the recovering Nano-Tech reserve, the ghost he had released upon the world was already driving his brother to the brink of obsession.
Ninety floors above, in his lavish, high-tech command center, Tony Stark was ignoring the global crisis reports, the SHIELD communiqués, and the urgent maintenance requests for the Iron Man suit. His entire focus was consumed by the phantom black armor.
Tony stood before a massive holographic display, which was filled with the minute, residual energy signature Alex had left behind during his final kinetic escape maneuver. The signature was clean, efficient, and hauntingly familiar.
"Run the forensic analysis again, J.A.R.V.I.S.," Tony demanded, his voice hoarse with fatigue and fury. "Cross-reference the kinetic signature against every known propulsion system, every classified SHIELD experimental vehicle, and every patent I've ever filed."
J.A.R.V.I.S.: "Sir, the kinetic expulsion was not a standard repulsor blast. It was a controlled, massive release of stored kinetic energy, modulated by a power source that registers trace elements of Gravimetric energy. The signature is a 99.9% match to the legacy Stark RUNE Protocol schematics found in the oldest sections of your father's digital library."
"RUNE Protocol," Tony repeated, the word tasting like ash. His father's work—the mysterious research he had always dismissed as Cold War paranoia—was not only real but was now manifesting as a suit superior to his own. "He didn't steal my tech; he mastered Dad's tech. The ultimate challenge."
Tony realized the black suit's brief appearance wasn't a random government test; it was a deliberate act of intellectual sabotage. The Shadow Man was not a mercenary; he was a rival genius operating with a secret, superior understanding of the Stark legacy. This was a direct assault on Tony's identity as the world's sole technological savior.
The Public Demand for the Phantom Armor
Tony's frustration boiled over. He couldn't fight an enemy he couldn't trace, especially an enemy who had publicly performed a better defensive save than he had. He needed answers, and he knew only one entity could possibly hide something this advanced.
Tony contacted Nick Fury directly, bypassing all protocol, his demand broadcast across the secure, yet monitored, Avengers channels.
"Fury, I want to know who the guy in the black suit is," Tony's voice cut through the air. "He's running classified Stark R&D, he's got better shielding than my latest prototype, and he's operating in my city. Who is he, and who gave him access to my father's work?"
Fury's response was clipped, absolute denial. "There is no 'guy in the black suit,' Stark. You were under duress during a major extraterrestrial threat. We are managing the situation. Focus on tracking Loki's agents."
"Don't insult my intelligence, Director," Tony countered, his voice rising. "I saw him take a Scepter blast that would have fried my Mark VII, and he stabilized a falling building. The man is real, he's a genius, and you are hiding him. Is he H.Y.D.R.A.? Is he a rival nation? Or is he some shadowy defense project that my father created before he decided I was worthy?"
The public confrontation solidified the Stark Divide. Tony's ego was driving him into open war with SHIELD, convinced that the Shadow Man was the key to understanding the full scope of the cosmic threat and his own diminished legacy.
The Need for Absolute Secrecy
Downstairs, Anya listened to the recording of the confrontation with cold dread. Alex, now stable at 60% integrity, was listening too.
"Tony will not stop," Anya stated, her hands hovering over the security interface. "His paranoia is total. He is focused entirely on the Gravimetric ghost and the RUNE signature. If he manages to track the faint residual energy, he will trace it back here, and the entire mission—the Key, the Protocol, everything—will be compromised."
Alex, his voice still weak but regaining its analytical edge, spoke from the chamber. "He's running basic kinetic tracking. We need to implement Level Five Stealth Countermeasures. We cannot simply evade him; we have to become mathematically undetectable."
Alex dictated the commands to Anya, instructing her on a complete overhaul of the Model Zero's energy emissions profile. He instructed the nanites to weave a quantum shielding field around the suit's exterior. This field wouldn't deflect energy; it would subtly shift the suit's energy footprint into a non-registrable dimension during transit and kinetic bursts.
"The suit won't just be quiet," Alex explained, pushing himself to detail the complex physics. "It will appear to not exist on a fundamental energy level. Tony's scanners will register a void—a technical error—not a signature."
Anya executed the intricate programming, her respect for Alex's defensive genius battling her fear of his recklessness. The final code she integrated was a pure anti-detection matrix—a technological cloak of absolute secrecy designed specifically to thwart the obsessive genius of Tony Stark.
The Model Zero was no longer merely a suit of armor; it was now a theoretical impossibility. The Shadow Man was complete, ready to operate as a necessary myth against both the cosmic threat and his brother's growing paranoia. The personal rivalry was cemented, and Alex had successfully become the perfect ghost.