Marvel: The saiyan

The ride to Burger King—yes, Burger King, because Stark couldn't be bothered to pick somewhere more dignified—was about as awkward as you'd expect.

Tony slouched in his seat, still nursing the glow of the arc reactor beneath his shirt. Pepper shot him glances every now and then, her lips pursed tightly in either annoyance or relief—I couldn't tell. Happy kept one hand on the wheel, the other near his phone, his eyes darting to the rearview mirror every so often. His focus wasn't just on the road; it was on me.

I wasn't exactly surprised. After all, I wasn't just some random guy sitting in the back of his boss's car. Happy clearly didn't trust me—and he wasn't wrong to be suspicious.

"So, let me get this straight," I said, breaking the silence. "You've been held hostage in a cave for weeks, came face-to-face with death multiple times, and the first thing you want when you get back is… a cheeseburger?"

Tony leaned back, shooting me a lazy grin. "Not just a cheeseburger. The cheeseburger. There's a difference. A cheeseburger is food. The cheeseburger is an experience."

"Right," I muttered, shaking my head. "You're a genius. I can tell."

Pepper huffed but didn't say anything. Happy, however, glanced at me through the mirror, his jaw tightening.

When we reached the drive-thru, Stark made his grand order: "One cheeseburger. With everything. Extra pickles. And don't skimp on the ketchup."

"And make it quick," he added. "I've got a press conference to get to."

I smirked and leaned forward. "Yeah, I'll take… eight cheeseburgers, three large fries, and five milkshakes. Chocolate. Oh, and throw in some onion rings while you're at it."

The drive-thru attendant was silent for a moment before responding, "Uh, sir… are you sure you want all of that?"

"Absolutely," I said, leaning back with a grin.

Pepper turned to me, her expression a mix of disbelief and irritation. "Are you serious?"

"Completely," I replied, shrugging. "Gotta keep the engine running."

Happy raised an eyebrow, shooting Tony a questioning look. "Uh… boss? You okay with this?"

Tony waved him off, handing over his credit card with a grin. "Let the man eat. It's not every day your guardian angel gets to enjoy some fast food."

Pepper muttered something under her breath, shaking her head.

By the time we pulled into the parking lot, the car was packed with bags of food. The smell alone was enough to make my Saiyan instincts kick into overdrive, and I wasted no time digging in.

While Stark took a single cheeseburger and ate it at a leisurely pace, I tore through my haul like a man possessed. Burgers vanished in seconds. Fries disappeared by the handful. Milkshakes barely lasted long enough for the brain freeze to hit.

Happy stared at me through the rearview mirror, his eyes wide. "Uh… is he… okay?"

Pepper sat frozen in her seat, her mouth slightly open as she watched me devour a burger in two bites. "How… how are you even eating that much?!"

Tony, for his part, looked amused. "It's like watching a vacuum cleaner with teeth."

"You'd think he hasn't eaten in weeks," Happy muttered, his wariness of me growing by the second.

I swallowed the last bite of my fifth cheeseburger and looked up, smirking. "What? I'm hungry."

"You're a bottomless pit," Pepper shot back, her eyes narrowing. "That's not human."

"Well, that's a good guess" I replied, leaning back with a satisfied grin.

Tony raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Alright, I'm adding this to the growing list of questions I have for you."

The moment we pulled up to Stark's Malibu mansion, Obadiah Stane was already waiting for us at the entrance. His bald head gleamed under the setting sun, and his trademark wide smile spread across his face as he walked toward the car, arms outstretched.

"Tony!" Stane boomed, his voice warm and welcoming. "You son of a gun. It's about time you came back."

"Obie!" Stark said, climbing out of the car with a grin. "Miss me?"

"Every damn day," Stane replied, pulling Tony into a bear hug. "You have no idea the kind of mess you left behind, kid. The board's been up in arms, the media's been hounding us nonstop, and I've been drowning in paperwork."

"Sounds like a nightmare," Tony said, clapping Stane on the shoulder. "But you handled it, right? That's why I keep you around."

Stane chuckled, though there was an edge to it. "Yeah, I handled it. But you've got a lot of explaining to do."

"Later," Stark said, waving him off. "Right now, I need a shower, a drink, and maybe another cheeseburger."

It was then that Stane's gaze shifted to me, his smile faltering slightly. "And who's this?"

"Shallot," Tony said casually. "Saved my life. Don't worry—he's not here to take your job."

Stane chuckled, though I could see the suspicion in his eyes. "Well, thanks for bringing our boy home in one piece."

"Don't mention it," I said, smirking.

Stane didn't respond, his sharp gaze lingering on me for a moment before turning back to Tony. "We'll talk later. Don't keep me waiting too long."

Despite Pepper's protests, Stark insisted on holding the press conference immediately. By the time we arrived at Stark Industries, the reporters were already gathered, their cameras and microphones ready to capture whatever spectacle Stark had in mind.

Stark's announcement played out almost exactly as I remembered it. He stood at the podium, delivering his impassioned speech about shutting down the weapons division and changing the direction of the company.

As expected, the room erupted into chaos. Reporters shouted questions. Executives whispered furiously among themselves. And Stane… Stane's reaction was the most interesting of all.

Sitting near the back of the room, his expression remained calm, but I could see the tension in his jaw and the slight twitch of his fingers. He wasn't happy. Not one bit.

When Stark stepped away from the podium, Stane was the first to approach him. "Tony, can I have a word?"

The conversation between them was short and tense, with Stane clearly trying to rein Stark in while Tony stood his ground.

As I watched from a distance, I couldn't help but smirk. This was the beginning of the rift between them—the first crack in the foundation of their partnership.

The ride back to the mansion was quieter than before. Stark seemed lost in thought, his earlier bravado replaced by a rare moment of introspection. Pepper sat beside Happy, her gaze fixed out the window, while I leaned back in my seat, finishing off the last of the onion rings I'd brought with me.

When we finally arrived, Stark stepped out of the car and turned to Pepper. "Pep, start looking into alternative energy projects. Clean energy, sustainable tech—the works. If we're not making weapons, we need to find something else to focus on."

Pepper nodded, her expression a mix of worry and determination. "I'll get started."

As she walked into the mansion, Stark turned to me. "And you."

I raised an eyebrow. "What about me?"

"You and I are gonna have a little talk," Stark said, his tone serious. "About who you are, what you want, and why the hell you eat like a black hole."

I smirked, crossing my arms. "Alright, Stark. Let's talk."

The mansion was quiet now. Pepper had retreated to her office to dive into Stark's new directives, and Happy was outside, probably making a discreet call to check on who the hell I was. That left Tony and me standing in the main living room, the Malibu sunset casting golden light across the sleek furniture and the ever-imposing presence of Stark's AI assistant, JARVIS, who seemed to be listening in on everything.

Tony stood near the bar, pouring himself a glass of scotch. He didn't offer me a drink, and I didn't ask for one.

"Alright, Shallot," Stark began, turning to face me. The scotch swirled lazily in his glass, but his eyes were sharp, piercing even. "Let's cut the crap. You saved my life back there—and I appreciate that. I really do. But I know a deal when I see one. You didn't do it out of the kindness of your heart. So, what do you want from me?"

I smirked, leaning casually against the back of the couch. "Smart guy. I knew you'd figure it out eventually."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Eventually? Please. I had you pegged the moment we got on that helicopter. You're not the 'random hero' type. You've got a plan. And you're about to tell me what it is."

I folded my arms, meeting his gaze evenly. "You're right. I didn't save you because I wanted to. I saved you because I needed something from you."

Tony let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he took a sip of his drink. "And here I thought I was paranoid. Alright, let's hear it. What could a guy like you possibly want from me?"

I pushed off the couch, taking a slow step toward him. "When I heard that you'd been captured by terrorists, I knew I had to act. Not because I care about you personally, Stark, but because your genius is... useful. To me."

Tony's smirk faded slightly, his expression growing more serious. "Useful, huh? For what?"

"A project," I said simply. "Something that only someone with your brains and resources could pull off."

Tony tilted his head, studying me like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve. "And you just happened to know where to find me, huh? How'd you pull that off?"

I shrugged. "Let's just say I've got my ways. I'm not going to elaborate on how I found you, Stark. All that matters is that I did."

Tony narrowed his eyes, his fingers drumming lightly against the side of his glass. "You're not exactly big on sharing, are you?"

"Not unless I have to be," I said, smirking. "But I'm not here to waste your time—or mine. So let's get down to it."

Tony gestured with his free hand. "Be my guest. Lay it on me."

I took a deep breath, my tone turning serious. "I need you to help me build something. A gravity chamber."

Tony blinked. "A gravity chamber?"

"Yeah," I said, my expression unwavering. "A room—very large, very durable, and very advanced—that can artificially increase the gravity inside it. I need something that can push my body beyond its current limits. Something that can simulate gravitational forces far stronger than Earth's."

Tony stared at me, his lips parted slightly as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard. Then he let out a bark of laughter, setting his glass down on the bar. "Okay, now I've heard everything. A gravity chamber? Are you serious?"

"Completely," I said. "And before you start saying it's impossible, let's be honest: if anyone can make this happen, it's you."

Tony squinted at me, clearly trying to read between the lines. "You're serious, aren't you? You actually think you're going to need this thing. What is this—are you training to fight aliens or something?"

I grinned faintly, the irony of his question not lost on me. "You could say that."

Tony raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Wait… are you serious? Is that actually what this is about?"

I held up a hand, cutting him off. "Stark, stop beating around the bush. I didn't come here to get interrogated. I came to make a deal. Are you in, or are you out?"

Tony blinked, momentarily thrown off by my bluntness. Then he set his drink down on the bar and crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter. "You're not big on small talk, are you?"

"Not when it's wasting time," I replied.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, fine. You want me to build this 'gravity chamber' of yours. But you're asking for a hell of a lot without giving me much to go on. Why should I trust you?"

I stepped closer, meeting his gaze with unwavering confidence. "You don't have to trust me, Stark. You just have to trust yourself. You're the only one who can pull this off. And deep down, you know it."

Tony's expression shifted, his cocky smirk softening into something more thoughtful. For a moment, I saw the man beneath the arrogance—the Tony Stark who thrived on challenges, who lived to create, to push the boundaries of what was possible.

"Let's say I do it," he said slowly, his tone cautious. "Let's say I build this thing for you. What happens next? What are you planning to do with it?"

"That's not your concern," I said, my voice firm but not dismissive. "Your part in this ends once the chamber is built. What I do with it is my business."

Tony let out a low whistle, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You're really not making this easy, you know."

"I'm not here to make things easy," I said. "I'm here to get results. And so are you."

For a long moment, Tony stared at me, his mind clearly racing. Finally, he let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"Fine," he said. "I'll do it. But on one condition."

I raised an eyebrow. "And what's that?"

"You tell me how the hell you knew where to find me in Afghanistan," Tony said, his tone serious. "Because that part? That part's been bugging me since the moment you showed up."

I smirked, leaning back slightly. "That's one secret you're not getting, Stark. Call it professional courtesy."

He rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. "Of course. Why did I even bother asking?"

"Because you're curious," I said, turning toward the window and glancing out at the ocean. "And because you've got a habit of poking at things you shouldn't."

Tony snorted. "You've got me there."

The tension in the room eased slightly, and I could see the gears turning in Stark's head. He wasn't just thinking about the gravity chamber—he was thinking about me, about what my angle was, about how I fit into whatever puzzle he thought he was piecing together.

"Alright," he said finally, straightening up and picking up his drink. "You've got yourself a deal. I'll start sketching out the designs tomorrow. But don't expect me to work miracles, alright? This thing's going to take time."

"I've got time," I said, turning back to face him. "Just make sure it's done right."

Tony raised his glass in a mock toast. "To impossible projects and questionable allies."

I smirked, crossing my arms. "I'll drink to that—if I drank."

Tony grinned, shaking his head as he took a sip. "You're something else, Shallot."

"And don't you forget it," I replied.

As Tony walked off toward his lab, muttering something about power supplies and reinforced alloys, I felt a flicker of satisfaction. The deal was struck, and the first step toward the gravity chamber was in motion.

But deep down, I knew this was just the beginning. Stark wasn't the type to let things go—not when his curiosity was piqued. He'd keep digging, keep asking questions, and eventually, he'd figure out more than I was ready to tell him.

For now, though, that was a problem for another day.

As Stark turned to head for the garage, his curiosity clearly still gnawing at him, I spoke up one last time.

"Stark," I said, my voice steady but firm.

He stopped mid-step, glancing back at me with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"You don't need to worry about me," I said, meeting his gaze evenly. "I'm not some evil maniac plotting world domination. My goals don't involve hurting innocent people, and I'm not here to destroy your world."

"That's… oddly reassuring," Stark replied, though his tone was dripping with sarcasm.

I smirked but continued. "But, if you ever find yourself in over your head—whether it's terrorists, rogue machines, or some crazy superpowered foe—you can call me. I've got your back."

Stark tilted his head slightly, studying me like he was trying to figure out if I was serious. "You know, for a guy who doesn't share much about himself, you're awfully good at making cryptic promises."

"It's not a promise," I said, turning to walk toward the mansion's massive glass windows overlooking the ocean. "It's a fact. Just keep my number handy. I'm only one call away."

Tony didn't respond right away. I could feel his sharp gaze lingering on me for a moment longer, as if he was debating whether or not to push further. But instead, he gave a small nod.

"Alright, mystery man," he said, his voice lighter now. "Let's see what we can cook up."

Tony's garage was everything I'd expected and more: a haven of cutting-edge technology, half-built prototypes, holographic displays, and a workshop that could probably make a NASA lab look outdated. The place buzzed with Stark's energy—a mix of chaos and brilliance in equal measure.

As I leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, Stark was already hunched over a holographic projection table, tapping away at a digital blueprint with the ease of a man who'd done this a thousand times before.

"So," Stark began without looking up, "I've built plenty of crazy things in my time. Arc reactors. Automated weapon systems. That kind of stuff. But a gravity chamber? That's a new one. You sure you're not secretly training astronauts?"

"Something like that," I said, smirking faintly. "Let's just say Earth's gravity doesn't cut it for me anymore. I need to push my body further—much further."

Tony let out a low whistle, swiping the projection to expand it. "Okay, let's get real for a second. You said you want a chamber that can increase gravity. Fine. I can work with that. But then you dropped the bomb on me: 300 times Earth's gravity?"

He turned to face me, his expression half-amused, half-baffled. "Do you have any idea how insane that is? That's insane!"

I shrugged casually. "You're the genius, Stark. I figured you could handle it."

Tony shook his head, muttering something under his breath before turning back to the projection. "Right now, with the tech I've got available, I can't even dream of hitting 300 times Earth's gravity. That's… it's just not possible. Not yet."

"How far can you go?" I asked, stepping closer to the table.

He tapped a few keys, running calculations that lit up the holographic display with energy outputs and stress simulations. "If I optimize the chamber's structural integrity with vibranium alloys or something similarly absurd—which, by the way, I don't have easy access to—I might be able to push it to 50 times Earth's gravity."

"Fifty," I repeated, my expression neutral.

"Yeah, fifty," Stark said, raising an eyebrow. "And that's pushing it. I'm talking enough energy to power a small city, reinforced plating that won't collapse under the weight, and cooling systems that can handle the sheer heat this thing will generate. Even that's going to take a while to build."

"Good enough," I said simply, surprising him.

"Good enough?" he repeated. "You don't seem like the kind of guy who settles for 'good enough.' What gives?"

I crossed my arms, my gaze fixed on the blueprint. "I know how these things work, Stark. It's a starting point. Once you've got the foundation in place, you'll figure out ways to improve it—optimize it, upgrade it. You're not the type to stop at 'good enough,' either."

He stared at me for a moment, then let out a short laugh. "Fair point."

Tony swiped the display again, bringing up a new schematic. The holographic chamber began to take shape—a sleek, circular room with reinforced walls, energy conduits, and a central console for controlling the gravity settings.

"So, here's what I'm thinking," Stark said, pointing at the design. "We'll start small. The chamber itself will need to be made of high-density materials to withstand the increased pressure, but the real challenge is the gravity generator. If we don't want this thing tearing itself apart—or you, for that matter—we're going to need precision control. One wrong setting, and you're a pancake."

"Got it," I said, nodding.

"Good," Stark said, spinning the hologram to inspect it from all angles. "I'll work on sourcing the materials and figuring out the power supply. But don't expect this to be done overnight."

Tony grinned, his fingers flying across the holographic keyboard. "Oh, don't worry about that. If I'm doing this, I'm doing it my way—which means it'll be perfect."

As he dove deeper into the schematics, muttering to himself about energy fields and structural stress points, I felt a flicker of satisfaction. The gravity chamber was on its way.

But as I turned to leave, I couldn't help but wonder how long it would take Stark to start asking the real questions—the ones about who I was, where I came from, and what I really wanted.

For now, though, I had everything I needed.

As I stepped out of the garage, the sounds of Stark's work fading behind me, I nearly bumped into Pepper in the hallway. She was holding a tablet, her expression sharp and inquisitive.

"Done plotting with Tony?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Plotting? Hardly," I said, smirking. "Just making plans."

"Plans for what?" she pressed, crossing her arms.

"Ask Stark," I replied, sidestepping her. "He loves explaining things."

Pepper watched me go, her suspicion evident. I could practically feel her gaze boring into the back of my head as I headed toward the mansion's living room.

"Oh, Miss Potts," I said, stopping mid-stride and turning slightly to glance over my shoulder.

She frowned, clearly annoyed at the interruption. "It's Pepper."

"Pepper," I corrected with a faint smirk. "I almost forgot to tell Tony something, but since you're here, I'm sure you'll pass it along for me."

Her eyes narrowed, clearly bracing herself for something ridiculous. "And what's that?"

I turned fully to face her, my expression uncharacteristically serious. "Tell Tony… to be wary of the shining head."

Pepper blinked, her brow furrowing in confusion. "The shining head?"

"Yeah," I said, my tone lightening into something almost playful. "Big, bald, and too friendly for his own good. You'll know exactly who I mean."

She stared at me for a moment, her lips pressing into a thin line. "You mean Obadiah?"

I shrugged, smirking again. "Did I say that? No. I just said, 'shining head.' You're free to interpret it however you like."

Pepper sighed, rubbing her temples as if dealing with me was already giving her a headache. "You know, I think I liked you better when you were just stuffing your face with cheeseburgers."

"Most people do," I replied, chuckling softly.

"Do you always talk like you're in a spy movie?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Only when it's fun," I said, stepping past her. "Anyway, don't forget. Shining head. Be careful."

Before she could reply, I was already walking away, leaving her standing in the hallway looking both exasperated and slightly concerned.

Outside, the Malibu air was crisp, the sun dipping low over the ocean as waves crashed against the cliffs below. For a moment, I stood on the driveway, taking it all in.

The pieces were falling into place. Stark was working on the gravity chamber, the foundation of what I needed to push my strength to the next level. But there were still so many variables—so many things that could go wrong if I didn't play my cards right.

I glanced back at the mansion, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of my lips.

"Good luck, Stark," I muttered to myself. "You're gonna need it."

And with that, I leapt into the air, the wind rushing past me as I flew back toward my secluded house deep in the forest.

Back inside the mansion, Pepper entered the garage, tablet in hand. Tony was already waist-deep in his latest project, holograms spinning in the air around him as he tinkered with something on the table.

"Tony," Pepper said, her tone sharper than usual.

Tony glanced up, a wrench in one hand and a half-empty glass of scotch in the other. "What's up, Pep?"

"Your… friend," she said, the word "friend" practically dripping with skepticism, "left me a message for you."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Shallot? What did he say? Was it another fast food order? Because I'm not funding his metabolism any further."

Pepper ignored the quip, setting her tablet down on the workbench. "He said to tell you to 'be wary of the shining head.' And yes, I asked him what that meant. He was vague. Very vague."

Tony frowned, setting the wrench down and leaning back against the workbench. "'Shining head'… He means Obadiah, doesn't he?"

Pepper hesitated, then nodded. "That was my guess too. But why would he say that? Do you think he knows something?"

Tony's expression darkened slightly, his gaze drifting toward the floor as he processed the cryptic warning. "I don't know," he said finally, his voice quieter now. "But Shallot doesn't strike me as the type to say something like that for no reason."

"So… what do we do?" Pepper asked, her voice softening.

Tony let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. "For now? Nothing. We keep it in the back of our minds. Obie's been running things while I was gone, and as far as I know, he's been doing a damn good job. But if Shallot's right…"

He trailed off, shaking his head.

"Just keep an eye on him," Tony said finally. "And if Shallot shows up again, we're getting more answers out of him."

Pepper nodded, though her unease was evident.

As she turned to leave, Tony picked up the holographic blueprint for the gravity chamber, his mind clearly already shifting back to work. But Pepper's words—and Shallot's warning—lingered in the back of his mind like an itch he couldn't scratch.

And in the shadows of Stark Industries, Obadiah Stane was already putting his own plans in motion.

Tony Stark leaned over his workbench, holograms of both the gravity chamber and the Mark II suit spinning in the air before him. He swiped between the two projects, muttering under his breath.

"Alright, JARVIS," Tony said, glancing at the chamber schematic. "Fifty times Earth's gravity—let's not turn this guy into paste on day one. Reinforced walls, cooling systems, and… yeah, that power load is gonna be fun to solve."

JARVIS's voice chimed in, smooth and steady. "Shall I prioritize this project, sir?"

"Nope," Tony replied, pulling the Mark II design to the forefront. "We're multitasking. Chamber for the alien weightlifter, and this beauty for me."

The sleek design of the Mark II reflected in Tony's eyes, a grin tugging at his lips. "Flight first," he muttered, tweaking the repulsors. "If I'm getting back in the air, I'm doing it in style this time."

With a quick swipe, he pushed the Mark II plans aside and returned to the gravity chamber schematics. "Let's see if this guy's insane idea is even possible."