"You're worried about people coming after the Arc Reactor? Honestly, Tony, that's the least of your problems," Huang Wen said, catching the billionaire's eye just as they reappeared in the quiet, sunlight-dappled interior of the Wing Chun gym. He gave Stark a look that was part pity and part warning. "You should probably start coming to terms with the fact that you aren't the only one who has cracked that particular nut. Somewhere out there, someone has already built a version of your 'heart.'"
Tony's eyebrows shot up, and he let out a sharp, incredulous bark of a laugh. "Impossible. I'm the only one with the brain—and the ego—to make that thing work in a chest-sized form factor. Maybe you're an expert at jumping between buildings and doing magic tricks, Huang, but in this lab, I'm the only God. Nobody else is even in the same zip code as me."
"Confidence is great, but don't let it blind you," Huang Wen replied with a cryptic smile, shaking his head. He started walking toward the back room, his voice trailing over his shoulder. "You'll meet him soon enough. Just remember: you didn't invent the concept of the Arc Reactor. You just polished the rough edges of a ghost your father left behind. The ghost has a son, Tony. And he's not a fan of your PR department."
What Huang Wen was hinting at, of course, was Ivan Vanko. In the original timeline, the son of the disgraced Anton Vanko was currently in a dingy room in Russia, fueled by vodka and a generational grudge, hammering out his own reactor. Anton and Howard Stark had birthed the technology together before Howard kicked the elder Vanko out for trying to sell the blueprints. Now, that legacy was coming back with whips and a vengeance.
But that wasn't the only reason Huang Wen was so nonchalant. Deep in the digital subconscious of his system, Silly Girl had already completely mapped and reverse-engineered the Arc Reactor from the Iron Monger suit he'd smashed weeks ago. He didn't need Tony's blueprints; he already had a version that was arguably more efficient. He'd kept quiet about it because he didn't want Tony to think he was just another corporate spy. Better to let Stark think he was still the "only one" for a little longer.
"Hey! Don't you dare walk away after a bombshell like that! Who is he? Give me a name!" Tony shouted, but Huang Wen had already stepped into the shadows and vanished in a blur of speed that left a gust of wind in his wake.
Tony stood in the middle of the gym, frustrated and slightly out of breath. He turned to Logan, who was leaning against a wooden dummy, looking bored. "Does he always do that? The whole 'mysterious monk' exit?"
"Pretty much," Logan shrugged, picking at a splinter on the dummy. "He likes the sound of his own riddles. Anyway, you've got a dozen sports cars blocking the street outside. Unless you want the NYPD to have the most expensive impound lot in history, you should probably get someone to move 'em. People are trying to walk their dogs out there."
"The cars? Forget them. I'm done with those models anyway. Tell someone to sell them and donate the money to a charity for... I don't know, kids who can't read good or whatever," Tony waved his hand dismissively, his mind already racing back to his father's old files.
Clink.
The sound was metallic and cold. Tony froze as three six-inch adamantium claws slid out of Logan's knuckles with a terrifyingly smooth hiss. Logan didn't move, but his eyes were fixed on Tony's throat.
"I'm a patient man, Stark, but I'm not a valet," Logan said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "Move the cars. Now."
Tony looked at his bandaged chest, then at the claws that could clearly slice through his Mark IV like warm butter. He swallowed hard. "Right. Moving the cars. Excellent idea. Efficient. I'll call Happy." He backed away toward the door, maintaining eye contact until he hit the sidewalk. "We'll talk later, Wolfy!"
Logan watched the billionaire scurry off and let out a huff of air, retracting his claws. He turned to Yuriko, who was standing nearby, watching the exchange with a blank, disciplined expression.
"Look, Yuriko," Logan started, his tone shifting into something almost pleading. "About the new house... you don't have to move in. Really. It's going to be small. Cramped. I probably won't even have a guest room. It'll just be me and Jean, and honestly, the plumbing is going to be a nightmare."
He had realized lately that having Yuriko around was like living with a high-functioning Terminator. She didn't sleep much, she followed him everywhere, and the tension between her and Jean Grey was starting to reach a boiling point that might actually level a city block.
Yuriko didn't even blink. "The size of the dwelling is irrelevant. My duty is to ensure the safety of Jean Grey and to provide support for your household. I will be there, Logan. Whether you provide a bed or I sleep on the ceiling."
Logan groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. He could handle Sabretooth, the Weapon X program, and a hundred ninjas, but he couldn't handle a stubborn woman with metal fingernails.
Meanwhile, in the silence of the underground base, Huang Wen sat cross-legged. He had more pressing matters than car parking or Logan's domestic drama.
"Silly Girl," he called out.
"I'm here, Brother Wen," the blue-clad girl appeared in a shimmer of light.
"Take the data from the Tuxedo—the stuff about the smart-fiber and the shape-shifting fabric—and start cross-referencing it with the Iron Man armor we just 'borrowed' from Tony. I want to see if we can skip the clunky metal suitcases and go straight to a nano-fluid deployment system. If we can make the armor part of the clothing, we'll be years ahead of Stark."
"Understood. Initiating simulation," she chirped.
With that set in motion, Huang Wen turned his attention to his internal interface. After the brutal takedown of Abomination, the system had granted him a Legendary Item Draw. These were rare, and after the system upgrade, he had the option to forgo the random luck and simply replicate something he already owned—like a Blood Bodhi.
"The Blood Bodhi is a safe bet," he mused, looking at the glowing icon. "But Belle and I have already hit the ceiling of what it can do for us. Giving it to Logan or Liang would help, sure, but it feels like a waste of a Legendary slot."
He took a deep breath. He felt lucky. The air in the base was still, and his Divine Power was humming steadily in his veins. "System, roll the dice. Initiate the Legendary Item Draw."
A swirl of deep, abyssal blue light erupted in front of him. It wasn't the golden glow of a 'holy' item, nor the red of a violent weapon. It was a cold, shadowy hue that seemed to swallow the light around it.
[Ding! Congratulations! You have received a Legendary Item: The Shadowkhan Mask.]
Huang Wen leaned in. The name sounded familiar, triggering memories of an old cartoon from his previous life.
[Description: Derived from the ten Oni masks of the Shadow Realm, optimized by the system into a single artifact. By donning or holding the mask, the user gains absolute command over the Shadowkhan—the shadow warriors.]
[Special Note 1: The Ten Legions. You now command the Ninja, Razor, Bat, Oni, Samurai, Alien, Shadow, Claw, Mantis, and Snake legions. Each possesses unique combat specialties, from flight to long-range bladed attacks.]
[Special Note 2: Immortality. Shadowkhan cannot truly die. They are manifestations of shadow and will. As long as the user possesses Divine Power, they can be reformed instantly. Current Summon Limit: 824,010 soldiers.]
[Special Note 3: The Shadow Leader. The mask allows for the creation of a Shadowkhan Legion Leader clone. This clone is a physical vessel of dark energy. It has no independent will and functions as a direct extension of the user's consciousness.]
Huang Wen stared at the black-and-purple mask that had materialized in his hands. It felt cool to the touch, almost vibrating with a low-frequency hum.
"Eight hundred thousand soldiers," he whispered. "That's not an army. That's a global occupation force."
While the individual strength of a single Shadowkhan was only at the peak of human capability—nothing compared to a Transcendent—their sheer numbers and immortality made them terrifying. They could infiltrate any building, shadow any target, and act as the ultimate eyes and ears in the dark.
But it was the 'Leader Clone' that caught his eye. He reached out and touched the mask to a swirl of shadow on the floor. Slowly, the darkness rose, solidifying into a tall, imposing figure. It lacked a face, its surface shifting like black oil, but it radiated a power that was firmly in the Legendary tier.
Huang Wen closed his eyes and pushed a fragment of his consciousness into the shadow.
It was a strange sensation—like looking through a tinted window. The clone was weaker than his main body, but it felt... untethered. It didn't have the same biological limitations. It was pure energy.
With a thought, he commanded the shadow to shift. The oily surface transformed, taking on the likeness of a non-descript middle-aged man with sharp, unremarkable features.