"So, what was that thing we just saw...? A new spiritual guru? Or someone trying to get you to donate for building a temple?"
The Rolls-Royce glided smoothly away from Queens. Happy Hogan, behind the wheel, glanced at his boss through the rearview mirror.
Tony Stark was leaning back in his seat, unusually not fiddling with his phone or holograms, just rubbing his temples, digesting the conversation that had just overturned his worldview.
"Much more interesting than that, Happy." Tony suddenly laughed, the sound carrying a mixture of fatigue and barely suppressed excitement, "Do you believe in gods?"
Happy's grip on the steering wheel faltered for a second: "I believe in payday, boss. As for the rest... it's whatever."
"A fine attitude." Tony straightened up, "I don't believe either. But that kid just told me about... a brand new discipline. One that Jarvis can't model or falsify."
"Sir," Jarvis's voice chimed in from the car's speakers, "Based on Mr. Lin Huai's description, any logical analysis leads to an infinite loop of paradoxes. My recommendation is to treat it as an unknown domain with its own axiomatic system, rather than a simple proposition of truth or falsehood."
"Hear that, Happy? Even Jarvis says it's 'advanced'." Tony spread his hands, wearing his classic expression of having found a new toy.
He was even more hopeful than Lin Huai himself that all of this was true. Compared to the possibility of pulling back the curtain on an entirely new World, the risk of being deceived was trivial.
"Jarvis."
"Yes, sir."
"Initiate feasibility analysis for 'Lava Octopus' and 'star crystal', set as background tasks. But no rush. Until our 'Angel investment' shows returns, it's just a theoretical project."
...Two days later, Malibu, Stark Mansion's underground workshop.
"Clang! Ding!"
The sound of mechanical arms colliding with high-strength alloy was crisp and rhythmic.
Tony was fully focused, installing the leg hydraulic stabilizers for a silver suit of armor that was beginning to take shape. This suit had sleeker lines and a more refined structure than the one he cobbled together in the Afghan cave.
He stared at the circular cavity left in the chest, where a new, improved arc reactor would be placed.
That blue light always made him think of another, dimmer light that had also given him life.
He thought of Dr. Ethan, in that cold, filthy cave. That gentle man with glasses had spoken to him with a conviction far stronger than any terrorist's: "You are Tony Stark. You can make a Jericho missile from a box of scraps."
No, I made something better.
Tony's gaze became soft and profound.
In his final moments, Ethan had said to him: "Don't waste it. Don't waste your life."
He hadn't wasted it.
This armor, Mark II, was his silent answer to Ethan. It was not a weapon, but a guardian. It was his way of atoning for his past and giving meaning to Ethan's sacrifice.
"Sir," Jarvis's voice interrupted his reverie, "There is an incoming call on the encrypted line reserved by Mr. Lin Huai."
Tony paused for a moment before remembering the mysterious young man who claimed to be a follower of the "Fool". He casually swiped open a virtual screen.
Lin Huai's face appeared on the screen, the background still that dim antique shop.
"Mr. Stark, I hope I'm not interrupting you while you're making new toys." Lin Huai's tone was placid.
"Get straight to the point, my time is precious." Tony wiped grease from his hands.
"The 'return' you need has now appeared." Lin Huai turned the screen toward an old television.
In the news footage, Queens was descending into chaos. The headline was Stark: "Unexplained Mass Hysteria Outbreak in Queens, Suspected Link to Water Contamination."
"Those who drink it become irritable, aggressive, and experience collective auditory hallucinations at night, claiming to hear the 'whispers' of water," Lin Huai explained point by point. "The CDC and EPA have already intervened, but their instruments... find nothing."
He turned the camera back to himself, looking directly at Tony.
"Now, you can send someone to collect a water sample from the Jefferson Reservoir. Analyze it with your most advanced equipment. Then you'll find... it's just ordinary water. And this, is the first 'reality beyond the rules' I will show you."
"I have proven to you the existence of 'Erosion'. Tomorrow morning at ten, Jefferson Reservoir. I will prove to you my 'value'."
The call ended, and the screen went dark.
Tony was silent for a few seconds, then the corner of his mouth curled into an irrepressible arc.
"Jarvis."
"Yes, sir."
"Send the nearest Drone to the Jefferson Reservoir! Bring back a sample of the highest purity! Activate the Class A biochemical lab in New York! I want to see for myself what's so special about this 'water of the gods'! Tell Happy, we're going back to New York."
...Erosion begins in the most mundane corners.
It is not as earth-shattering as disasters in movies, but like a drop of ink in clear water, spreading silently.
Some residents of Queens began to feel inexplicably irritable. Trivial annoyances from daily life were infinitely magnified into uncontrollable rage. An ordinary traffic jam could escalate into a street brawl because of a prolonged horn honk; a casual complaint between neighbors could turn into a hysterical argument.
Even more bizarre were the sounds.
In the dead of night, people always felt they could hear something. Not clear speech, but a chaotic, viscous whisper, like countless damp insects crawling in the ear canal.
The source seemed to be related to water. The dripping of faucets, the whirring of washing machines, the flow of water in the pipes... everything took on an ominous, almost living quality.
The young Mother Angela was one of the earliest touched by this spreading ink.
She was preparing dinner in the kitchen while her seven-year-old son Jamie scribbled with crayons on the living room carpet.
"Crack!"
She accidentally knocked over a glass, sending water and shards everywhere.
"Damn it!" An inexplicable wave of irritation surged through her, and she couldn't help but mutter a curse.
She crouched down to clean up while urging, "Jamie, go wash your hands, dinner's ready!"
"Mom," the little boy looked up, his big blue eyes filled with confusion, "listen."
"To what?" Angela asked impatiently.
"The faucet... it's talking to me."
Angela frowned and looked. The kitchen faucet was tightly closed, with only an occasional drop seeping out, making a faint "drip" sound.
"Don't be ridiculous, that's just dripping!"
After dinner, Angela curled up on the sofa watching TV. The noisy soap opera on the screen couldn't dispel the growing anxiety in her heart.
She always felt a strange "rustling" sound lingering in her ears, like a radio with poor reception, or as if many people were whispering in the distance.
She turned off the TV, and the apartment instantly fell silent.
"Rustle... rustle rustle..."
The sound became even clearer, seemingly coming from the pipes in the walls!
A primal panic gripped her heart.
She abruptly stood up and rushed into her son's room, only to see Jamie not sleeping, but lying on the floor, frantically drawing something on a white sheet of paper by moonlight.
Angela walked over and picked up the drawing.
There were no houses, little people, or Sun.
Only one after another, terrifying shadows formed by countless twisted black lines, tangled together like leeches, featureless.
At the center of all the shadows was a vast, hollow vortex.
A biological laboratory on the top floor of Stark Tower.
Tony was staring at a row of test tubes containing water samples urgently collected from Queens.
"Jarvis, report!"
"Sir, the seventeenth round of water sample analysis is complete. Composition: hydrogen, oxygen, and trace minerals consistent with urban water supply standards. Spectral analysis, bacterial detection, toxicity testing... all negative. Conclusion: it's ordinary water."
"Ordinary water can make half a borough collectively hallucinate?" Tony paced irritably around the lab.
News footage was playing silently, the headline Stark: "Unexplained Mass Hysteria Outbreak in Queens, Suspected Link to Water Contamination."
His instruments couldn't find any problem, making him feel like a Fool trying to analyze a poem with a calculator.
At that moment, the black, unmarked encrypted phone abruptly rang.
Tony's eyes sharpened, and he immediately grabbed the phone.
"It's me."
Lin Huai's voice was calm and clear, like a scalpel, precisely cutting into his current predicament.
"I think it's time for your first 'investment' to see a return. How about tomorrow morning?"