Tony Stark
At 10880 Malibu Point, the Pacific roared below glass walls and steel beams. Inside the workshop, holograms floated in layered brilliance as Tony Stark leaned over the exposed chassis of a bright red sports car.
"JARVIS," he said lazily, tightening a bolt, "if this thing explodes again, I'm blaming you."
JARVIS replied calmly,
"Sir, statistically speaking, you are responsible for eighty-seven percent of explosions in this facility."
Tony snorted. "Hey, innovation requires sacrifice. Preferably of expensive machinery."
A blur crossed his vision.
The workshop vanished.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
When Tony opened his eyes again, he stood inside an ancient castle drowned in gray fog. Cold stone stretched endlessly. Whispering echoes crawled along the walls like living things.
"Okay," he muttered, forcing a grin. "Either I finally broke reality… or this is one hell of a hallucination."
He wasn't alone.
The Castle
Three figures stood around the long stone table.
A tall, broad-shouldered man with the bearing of a warrior king.
A teenage girl in worn, dirty clothes, thin but unbroken.
And Tony himself.
At the far end—
A throne.
And upon it…
Me.
The moment Tony's gaze touched my silhouette, arrogance shattered. His mind screamed danger. His instincts—sharpened by genius and survival—told him one thing.
For the first time in years, Tony Stark felt small.
T'Challa
In Wakanda, T'Challa had just finished training. Sweat rolled down his skin as he removed his gloves.
The world twisted.
The gym dissolved.
When he reappeared, the gray fog pressed down on him like a living weight.
A king by birth and by will, T'Challa stood straight—but his heart pounded.
This presence…
It eclipsed gods.
He could not see my face.
Yet every instinct screamed reverence.
And fear.
Wanda and Pietro
In a crumbling apartment in Sokovia, candlelight flickered over cracked walls. Wanda Maximoff sat on the floor beside her brother, Pietro Maximoff, sharing a piece of stale bread.
"We'll be fine," Pietro said softly. "We always are."
The room vanished.
Wanda gasped.
The castle assaulted her senses. Power pressed down from all directions. Her dormant magic screamed warnings, flooding her with terror.
This being…
It could erase me with a thought.
Her legs trembled as her eyes locked onto the throne.
I felt her fear.
I allowed it.
The Praise
With a subtle gesture—right thumb to left chest—I animated my clone.
The clone rose.
And spoke.
"The Fool that doesn't belong to this era."
"The Mysterious Ruler above the gray fog."
"The King of Yellow and Black who wields good luck."
"The True Creator who embodies luck, deception, and fate."
"We pray for your grace."
"We pray for your blessing."
"We pray for the mercy of your gaze."
The words echoed through the castle.
Tony's breath caught.
T'Challa's pupils narrowed in awe.
Wanda's heart nearly stopped.
Behind each chair, tarot symbols ignited softly.
The Lord Speaks
I leaned forward slightly.
"Welcome," I said.
"Welcome to the Castle of Mysteries."
"I am the Lord of Mysteries."
Silence devoured the room.
"I watched the mortal world through the gray fog."
"I invited you because I am tired of seeing the same destiny repeated endlessly," I continued calmly.
"This time, I wish to see whether mortals can break free from fate."
"For my amusement."
The World
My clone smiled.
"Hello," it said. "You may call me The World. I was the first invited."
"Every first Monday of the month, at 2 PM, we meet."
"Here, you may exchange knowledge, rare materials, power… or destiny itself."
"You may introduce yourselves. Names are optional. Your tarot cards will suffice."
Tony shrugged. "I'm Tony Stark. No secrets. Nice to meet you."
The air detonated.
Scarlet energy erupted from Wanda, flooding the hall with rage and grief. She couldn't move—but if she could, Tony would already be dead.
"You," she snarled. "Murderer."
Tony recoiled. "Whoa—hey! What did I do?"
"You destroyed my family! You killed my parents!"
"I sell weapons to the military," Tony snapped back. "I don't start wars!"
Her power spiraled out of control.
I lifted one finger.
The scarlet storm froze.
"Calm yourself," I said.
My voice sank into Wanda's soul.
She stilled instantly.
I continued, evenly, "When Wanda was ten, a missile struck her home. Her parents died. Another missile landed beside her bed."
"It bore the name Stark Industries."
Tony went silent.
"…I didn't know," he said hoarsely. "When I return, I'll investigate. And I'll give you an answer."
Silence
After a while
T'Challa spoke next. "I am T'Challa… from Wakanda."
Wanda swallowed. "I am Wanda… from Sokovia."
The System Revealed
I gestured.
Panels appeared before them.
Powers. Prices. Artifacts.
Even vibranium.
T'Challa's breath hitched.
"There are many things you may purchase," my clone said. "I, myself, use the Perfect Super Soldier Serum."
Tony and T'Challa exchanged glances.
They bought it.
Dose l and ll
$15 million and $40 million
"Payment?" T'Challa asked.
"When you return," my clone replied. "Your account will be charged."
Wanda stared at the prices, pale.
I spoke gently, "You need not buy anything."
"You already possess the greatest potential."
"Remember this, Wanda—power is a tool. Not a master."
Her eyes widened. "…Thank you."
Fear still lingered.
But so did hope.
A Private Deal
"If you wish to know your future," my clone said, "you may ask. There is a price."
"I request a private conversation with Wanda."
I waved my hand.
Fog enveloped them.
I spoke to Wanda alone.
"You have struggle a lot in Sokovia. I can offer safety, employment. A future—for you and your brother. I have no ill toward you, this is my investment Under the witness of my Lord Mr. Fool"
She was silent
Her voice trembled. "Let me speak with Pietro."
I nodded.
The fog cleared.
Tony and T'Challa exchanged uneasy looks.
This was real.
Terrifyingly real.
Closing
"That is all for today," I said at last.
"We will meet again."
The fog surged.
And the castle emptied.
I leaned back on my throne.
The first move was complete.