The next morning, Doom Industries moved like a machine under pressure.
Every department was on edge. Employees sat straighter, spoke less, worked faster. Outside the building, reporters had already gathered, cameras ready.
Victor had made sure of that.
If Noah Vale was coming, the world was going to know.
And the market would respond.
Right on schedule, a convoy of black vehicles pulled up to the entrance.
Victor's eyes lit up. He stepped forward immediately.
Inside the lead car, Noah glanced at the scene, then at Wilson Fisk.
"This is a bit much," he said. "Feels inefficient."
Fisk lowered his voice.
"The public mood isn't exactly friendly right now," he explained. "Mutants aren't popular. Since your identity went public, sentiment's taken a hit."
He gave a small shrug.
"This kind of presentation discourages trouble. Even if it wouldn't matter to you, appearances still count."
Noah considered that.
"And Doom's still willing to promote this visit?" he asked. "Wouldn't that hurt their stock?"
Fisk shook his head.
"You represent money now," he said simply. "No one turns that down."
He gestured toward the building.
"Since last night, their after-hours trading is already up."
Noah didn't reply.
The car door opened.
He stepped out.
Victor was already there, hand extended, smile perfectly measured.
"Mr. Vale," he said. "Welcome to Doom Industries."
They shook.
"I have to say," Victor continued smoothly, "your work is revolutionary. I picked up your book the day it released. Unfortunately, I couldn't attend the signing."
A slight pause.
"Perhaps before you leave, I could trouble you for an autograph?"
Noah gave a faint nod.
"Maybe."
Victor didn't miss a beat.
"Would you like a tour of the company? We've recently increased investment in our biotech division to align with internal energy research—"
"No need," Noah cut in. "I'm here for one thing."
Victor's smile didn't falter.
"The cosmic storm project," Noah said. "That's all I'm interested in."
For a fraction of a second, something tightened behind Victor's eyes.
Then it was gone.
"Of course," he said. "Right this way."
—
They moved through the building, past rows of employees who suddenly found their screens very interesting.
The elevator ride to the seventh floor was quiet.
When the doors opened, a prepared holographic display flickered to life.
Victor stepped forward.
"The project is designed around an incoming cosmic storm expected in several weeks," he began. "By positioning a space station along the projected trajectory, we can gather—"
Noah raised a hand.
"I don't need the pitch," he said. "I want to meet the people actually running this."
Victor nodded immediately.
"Of course."
A few minutes later, three individuals stood before Noah.
Two men.
One woman.
Noah studied them briefly.
Future Fantastic Four, he thought.
…Except one's missing.
Victor gestured toward them.
"This is Susan Storm, head of our genetics division. Her brother, Johnny. And Ben Grimm—he'll be piloting the station."
Noah's gaze shifted slightly.
"No Reed Richards?" he asked.
Victor sighed lightly, as if inconvenienced by bad timing.
"Dr. Richards lost contact with us yesterday," he said. "We haven't been able to reach him since."
Noah frowned.
"Yesterday?"
That was too convenient.
He had specifically planned to meet Reed—if anyone could design equipment capable of keeping up with his training needs, it would be him.
And now—
Gone.
Just like that.
"We can proceed without him," Victor added quickly. "The project is fully structured."
Noah let it go—for now.
"Fine," he said. "I've always been interested in space."
Victor's expression brightened instantly.
"I'd like to join the mission," Noah said.
A beat.
Victor almost laughed in relief.
"Of course," he said. "You'd be more than welcome."
Noah tilted his head slightly.
"Then I'll make a small adjustment to the crew."
Victor blinked.
"…Adjustment?"
"No additions," Noah said. "Just replacements."
He pointed.
"You," he said to Victor. "And Ben Grimm. You're both off the mission."
Silence.
Ben stared at him.
Victor froze.
Johnny looked between them, confused.
Susan said nothing—but her eyes narrowed slightly.
From Noah's perspective, it was simple.
Ben didn't need to turn into a walking rock.
And Victor—
Didn't need to become Doctor Doom through a botched experiment.
Call it… preventative damage control.
From everyone else's perspective—
This looked very different.
Fisk glanced sideways at Noah, then at Susan.
Understanding dawned instantly.
Ah.
Teenage boy.
Beautiful woman.
Say no more.
Victor, meanwhile, felt something crack internally.
Susan was—
Complicated.
Personal.
He had invested time—effort—
And now—
Noah was casually rewriting the situation.
His instincts screamed to refuse.
To push back.
To draw a line.
Then Noah spoke again.
"I'll invest," he said casually. "Let's say… three billion to start. You manage it. If it's not enough, we add more."
The number hit like a hammer.
Three times the project's entire original budget.
Victor didn't hesitate.
"Done," he said immediately, stepping forward to shake Noah's hand again.
"Welcome aboard."
Behind the handshake, there was a shared look—
One Victor thought he understood.
One Noah absolutely did not.
Noah frowned slightly.
…Why does it feel like he misunderstood something?
...
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