"Look, I'm not some cosmic sorcerer, Tony. I don't have a wand, and I definitely don't have a manual for alien 'ghost' engines," Huang Wen said, spreading his hands with a helpless shrug.
Even though his recent "Dream Butterfly Escape" technique looked like a high-end teleportation spell, the underlying logic was rooted in Taoist secret arts—internal energy and mental manifestation rather than tapping into the ambient ley lines of the planet. It was the classic superpower dilemma: a mutant who shoots fire and a magician who casts a fireball might look identical to a bystander, but one is a biological furnace while the other is a cosmic borrower.
Huang Wen was acutely aware of this distinction, especially since his clone, Chen Long, was currently buried deep in the Ancient One's library at Kamar-Taj. The sorcerers of this world were essentially high-stakes celestial debtors, borrowing power from entities like Agamotto or the Vishanti. Huang Wen's power, however, was his own—processed, refined, and stored within his own dantian.
"The Lightning Ring I have operates on a similar frequency," Huang Wen continued, pointing toward the ship's core. "It generates raw elemental energy. But this ship is on another level. It creates pure, unrefined energy and then uses those 'magical' conduits to shape it into whatever it needs—thrust, shields, or plasma. It's a universal translator for power."
Tony Stark, still looking like he wanted to fight the laws of physics, rubbed his temple. "Fine, skip the magic lecture. Let's talk brass tacks. I need a power source that doesn't rely on runes I can't read."
"What about the old-school Arc Reactor?" Huang Wen suggested, a sudden thought striking him. "I know palladium is a pain to find and the toxicity is a nightmare for a chest-piece, but for a stationary weapon system? You don't have to worry about it poisoning a human heart. Plus, doesn't Stark Industries have that massive one sitting in the middle of the HQ?"
Tony's eyes practically popped out of his head. He looked at Huang Wen like the man had just suggested using a steam engine to power a stealth bomber. "You've been eyeing my building's giant nightlight? Seriously? You're a regular little industrial spy, aren't you?"
He sighed, shaking his head. "The conversion efficiency on the Mark I tech is garbage compared to the New Element. If we tried to bridge that old reactor into this ship's weapon array, the heat loss alone would melt the hull before we got off a single shot. The energy consumption would be five times higher just to maintain the plasma state. It's a non-starter."
"Alright, alright, keep your secrets," Huang Wen laughed, waving off the technical jargon. "Let's shelve the energy crisis for an hour. The weapons will get built eventually. I came here for something a bit more... historical."
Tony narrowed his eyes. "You aren't here to check my progress? I just spent twenty minutes giving you a status report for fun?"
"Don't treat me like your board of directors, Tony. I don't care about quarterly projections," Huang Wen teased. "I'm here because I have a guest in the other lab who's been chilling—literally—since 1945. Want to see if the rumors are true?"
"Frozen for seventy years? Give me a break." Tony followed Huang Wen toward the exit, his skepticism on full display. "Human biology isn't a TV dinner. At those temperatures, cell walls rupture. Even with the best cryo-tech we have today, we can't bring someone back without turning their brain into mush. In the forties? They barely had penicillin."
"Just keep an open mind," Huang Wen said with a cryptic grin. He grabbed Tony's shoulder, and with a flash of white light, the cluttered hangar of Base Two vanished, replaced by the sterile, high-tech interior of Base One.
"Signal's dead. Jarvis is offline. Great. I feel like I'm in a lead box," Tony muttered, checking his watch. But his complaints died in his throat the moment he looked up.
There, standing in the center of a specialized containment field, was the block of ice. And inside, perfectly preserved in a suit that belonged in a museum, was Steve Rogers. The shield, with its iconic star and circular stripes, was pinned beneath his arm.
Tony stepped forward, his bravado evaporating. He looked at the man his father, Howard Stark, had talked about with such reverence—and such annoying frequency. "It's really him. The old man's golden boy." He walked in a slow circle around the ice, his engineer's brain already scanning the surface. "If word gets out that the Star-Spangled Man is back from the dead, it's going to be a circus. A spiritual icon in a modern world... he's going to be miserable."
"Maybe, but he's alive," Bruce Banner said, stepping out from behind a monitor. He offered a hand to Tony. "Dr. Bruce Banner. I've read your papers on integrated circuits. Impressive stuff."
"Tony Stark. And I've read your work on gamma radiation," Tony replied, shaking his hand firmly. "Renowned biologist, disappeared off the map. I should have guessed this 'irresponsible boss' of ours would be the one hiding you."
Bruce looked at Huang Wen with a slight flush of embarrassment. "Well, he's not exactly my boss, Mr. Stark. He's... my Master."
Tony let out a sharp bark of a laugh. "A Master? What, is he teaching you how to punch people really hard? You're a seven-PhD genius, Bruce. Don't let the kung-fu grip fool you."
"You'd be surprised what a 'martial artist' can teach you about biology," Huang Wen interjected, completely unbothered.
"Right, whatever," Tony said, turning back to the ice. "If we're doing this, we do it right. We need a full metabolic scan. We melt the exterior layers fast to get access, but the moment we hit skin, we drop the ambient temp to zero. We have to coax the heart back into a rhythm before the core temperature rises too fast, or we'll trigger systemic organ failure."
"Exactly," Bruce agreed, his eyes shining with professional respect. "The rapid-thaw method would cause massive internal hemorrhaging. We need to simulate a slow 'spring' for his cells."
"Great. Since you two are the smartest guys in the room, I'll leave the 'Captain-sickle' to you," Huang Wen said, feeling the urge to check on his other students. "Silly Girl, give them full admin rights to the medical suite. Keep me posted on his vitals."
"Understood, Boss," the AI's voice chimed in. A holographic projection of a young woman appeared between the two scientists, her eyes flickering with data streams as she began syncing with their handheld devices.
Huang Wen stepped out of the medical bay and headed toward the secondary research wing. While the "Big Three" were handling the heavy lifting of alien tech and super-soldiers, his younger disciples were working on something equally important for the future.
In the second lab, the atmosphere was much more energetic. Huang Liang and Peter Parker were huddled over a workbench, surrounded by bubbling beakers and strange, translucent strands of material. Between them stood another projection of the Silly Girl—or rather, a sub-routine of her.
Huang Wen marveled at the AI. After the system's "transformation," she wasn't just a program; she was a multi-threaded entity. She could be assisting Stark with complex physics in one room while teaching Peter the basics of molecular bonding in another, all without losing a beat. She was the glue holding both bases together.
"How's the 'Spider-Project' coming along?" Huang Wen asked, startling the two teenagers.
"Master! Look!" Huang Liang shouted, his face beaming with excitement. He pointed to a pile of greyish, gelatinous slime sitting on a ceramic plate. "We were digging through the Silly Girl's chemical database and found a formula for a synthetic polymer based on deep-sea snail secretions."