Marvel : The God Of Punishment System

The Life Foundation headquarters sprawled near the iconic Golden Gate Bridge, its modern glass facade hiding countless secrets within. Their recent space mission had returned with cargo far more precious—and dangerous—than anyone could imagine.

Tony Stark's fingers danced across his tablet as he bypassed the corporation's security protocols with practiced ease. Within minutes, classified data flooded his screen: alien life forms, biological experiments, containment protocols. The treasure trove he'd been searching for.

"Bingo," he muttered, watching through enhanced surveillance as a sleek Blackbird jet touched down on the facility's private runway. The exit ramp lowered, revealing several familiar silhouettes he'd rather not encounter. "Shit. The Avengers beat me here."

Stark adjusted his approach, melting into the shadows as he formulated a new plan. If he couldn't get to the Life Foundation's prizes directly, he'd intercept their courier.

The old apartment building reeked of stale cigarettes and broken dreams. Tony Stark stepped into the creaking elevator, his designer suit starkly contrasting with the peeling wallpaper.

As the doors began to close, three burly men in black suits shouldered their way inside. They eyed Stark with vague recognition, their expressions tightening.

"Hey, you look like that rich asshole from the news," one muttered, squinting. "What's his name... Tony something?"

Stark shrugged casually. "Yeah, I get that all the time. But between you and me? I'm way better looking. Plus, I don't have to deal with giant holes in my house." He smirked. "No offense to billionaires, but that guy's getting his ass kicked lately."

The bald man snorted. "You're missing the arrogance though. No way would Tony Stark set foot in this dump."

"Fair point," Stark conceded, then glanced at their poorly concealed weapons. "Speaking of dumps, you guys looking for Eddie Brock too? Great minds think alike, huh?"

The men exchanged uncertain glances.

"Ding!"

As the elevator doors parted, Stark straightened his suit and turned back with a charming smile. The thugs lay crumpled on the floor, victims of precisely placed nerve strikes delivered in the seconds between recognition and reaction.

"Room 1404," Stark read aloud, consulting his phone. He knocked with deliberate force.

"Jesus Christ, who is it?" a gravelly voice answered from within.

Stark ignored the question and continued pounding.

The door flew open, revealing a disheveled Eddie Brock. His reporter's instincts kicked in instantly. "What the—you're really Tony Stark?!"

Without invitation, Stark brushed past into the cluttered apartment. Pizza boxes and beer bottles littered every surface, mixed with scattered newspapers and hastily scribbled notes.

"Oh yeah, this is exactly what I expected—bachelor chic meets investigative journalism," Stark remarked, kicking aside a month-old takeout container.

Eddie slammed the door, his mind racing. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Stark pulled out his phone, queuing up a grainy video. "Because of your little... friend situation."

The footage showed Eddie being violently transformed into a massive black creature with razor teeth, tearing through carlengths during the recent Life Foundation incident.

Eddie's face paled. "How did you—"

"Find you? Please." Stark pocketed his phone and moved to the window. "I built an AI that monitors the internet for crazy shit. Alien goo monsters definitely qualify."

"That sounds more like an Avengers gig," Eddie said, testing the waters.

Stark's jaw clenched almost imperceptibly. "Yeah, well, they're busy playing poster boys, flying around in that obnoxious jet like they own the sky. Someone's gotta handle the real work."

"Sounds like you're jealous," Eddie observed.

"Jealous? Of that circus?" Stark stood abruptly. "Look, I came here with an offer. You're wasting away in this shithole when you could be out there making a difference. And let's be real—you need this more than the world needs another sad-sack reporter."

He began pacing the room. "I remember when Eddie Brock was THE name in investigative journalism. Front page, multiple awards, dating that gorgeous doctor. Now look at you—unemployed, dumped, living off instant ramen."

Eddie flinched.

"You still love Anne, right?" Stark pressed. "You gonna let her marry some other asshole? Have his kids? Grow old with him while you drown in scotch and regret?"

Stark's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "I'm forming a team. Not for the cameras, not for the glory—for real results. Join me, and I'll give you everything: money, respect, purpose. Hell, I'll buy you a newspaper if you want."

"And if I say no?" Eddie challenged.

A black tentacle suddenly shot out from Eddie's shoulder, forming a grotesque face with glowing white eyes. "Who the fuck are you supposed to be?"

Stark remained perfectly calm. "Tony Stark, genius, billionaire—"

"Never heard of you," Venom interrupted, extending himself to examine Stark closely. He sniffed dramatically. "Ugh, you smell like booze and bad decisions. Your liver's shot, lungs are gross from those fancy cigars, and what the hell's wrong with your heart? There's a fucking light in there!"

The symbiote circled Stark like a predator. "Your kidneys are wrecked—probably from all that drinking. And your blood... there's poison in it. You're falling apart."

Stark adjusted his collar. "I'm inviting Eddie—bonus if you come along, but I can work with just him."

"What's in it for me?" Venom demanded. "You got chocolate?"

"Besides eating people? Pretty much anything."

Venom scoffed. "You think I give a shit about your toys? This loser's already more entertaining than you."

The symbiote retreated into Eddie's skin.

Eddie looked torn between hope and suspicion. "Look, Mr. Stark, what kind of 'team' are we talking about?"

Stark's earpiece crackled softly. "Sir, I'm detecting Wolverine, Colossus, and Pyro approaching the building. ETA: three minutes."

"Running out of time, Eddie," Stark said urgently. "I recently acquired controlling interest in the Daily Bugle. You want your career back? Your reputation? I can make it happen."

"Wait, if I'm writing again, how am I supposed to be on your team?"

"You'll figure it out once you're in New York."

"Eddie, don't trust him!" Venom warned from within. "This reeks like that lab we escaped."

"On my honor as Iron Man, I won't harm Eddie," Stark declared solemnly.

Eddie hesitated, wrestling with desperation and doubt. "Sometimes I think about Anne... wonder if she still has feelings for me."

"What if she does?" Stark pressed. "What if she's settling for Safe Guy because she thinks you're out of the picture? You gonna let her waste her life wondering 'what if'?"

The question hit Eddie like a hammer. His eyes reddened. "Fuck it. You're right. I am being a coward."

"I knew you'd see reason," Stark smiled. "Don't worry, Eddie. I've got plans for you."

Internal calculations complete: Subject acquired. Now to implement phase two...

Minutes after their departure, Wolverine stalked into the empty apartment with Colossus and Pyro. Logan's nostrils flared as he searched for traces of their target.

"Got something?" Colossus asked, his metallic skin gleaming.

Logan shook his head. "Thought I caught a familiar scent, but it's gone now."

After confirming the space was clear, they filed out.

Across the hall, apartment door clicked open. Jason stepped out.

"Tsk tsk. Avengers intel really isn't what it used to be," he murmured. "If I hadn't remembered about the Life Foundation, Stark might've actually surprised me with something nasty."

He waved casually to the tenant cowering inside. "Thanks for letting us crash. Your hospitality saved the world. Kinda."

Back at the Avengers compound, Jason intensified surveillance on Stark Industries. Every camera, every sensor, every data stream was redirected to monitor the wayward genius.

Even Professor X was enlisted. "Charles, can you get a read on Tony's mental state?"

The professor concentrated, his brow furrowing. "Strange... I'm encountering resistance. He's developed some kind of psionic shielding."

"Natural or artificial?"

"Definitely artificial. And sophisticated. I could force my way in, but he'd know immediately."

Jason considered this. "Leave it alone for now. I've got a theory about what's happening, and I'd rather not spook him prematurely."

His mind raced with possibilities. Tony's recent activities—acquiring Extremis research, capturing symbiotes, his sudden personality shift. The pieces formed a disturbing picture: Stark might be aiming to create his own version of the Superior Iron Man armor, the white-and-gold monstrosity that had terrorized cities in another timeline.

"Anton," Jason called to the compound's lead scientist. "Drop everything else. I need you to research counters for two specific weaknesses: extreme temperature variations and sonic frequencies."

"For the symbiotes?"

"And whatever else Stark's cooking up."

As his team scrambled to prepare, Jason reflected on their own symbiote specimens obtained from the Life Foundation raid. If properly modified, they could enhance every Avenger's abilities exponentially. But first, those glaring weaknesses needed addressing.

Asgard

King Odin slumped on his throne, pinching the bridge of his nose as another argument echoed through the golden halls. His sons' return from Midgard had brought not wisdom, but constant bickering.

"Father, I demand Mjolnir!" Thor's voice boomed through the throne room. "I have proven myself worthy!"

"You shall have a weapon befitting your growth," Odin replied wearily. "The dwarves craft you a magnificent spear even now."

"But I want my hammer!"

From the shadows, Loki sneered. "Perhaps if you stopped swinging like a berserker and learned actual skill..."

"Rich words from someone who throws knives from afar!"

As his sons devolved into another childish spat, Odin's thoughts drifted to his recent conversation with the mysterious Midgardian warrior, Jason.

"Old God King, do you want a son-in-law?"

The memory sparked a moment of consideration. Perhaps what his sons needed wasn't another lecture, but an outsider's perspective. Someone who'd faced real challenges and survived.

But who would want to deal with his impossible children? And more importantly... which of his daughters would he consider worthy enough to marry?

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