Interlude 3
Interlude 3
[I edited this chapter because I was rereading it, and it felt kind of... Kind of...]
POV: Anthony Edward Stark [When received Devas' letter].
Multiverse... My world was like a comic book...
Honestly, I didn't know what to think. What should I do now? Have an existential crisis or a panic attack? Maybe both?
Or just pat myself on the back, since I was famous throughout the multiverse?
I'll go with the pat on the back... Maybe the panic attack too, but for now, I had letters to read.
DS had sent me a box with four letters. Taking the first one, as he instructed to read in order:
—Well, if you're reading this crap out loud, I recommend you stop. Did you stop? Great!
—Now, step 1, read this thing ALONE! Got it? Don't tell anyone, not even Stane or Pepper!...
This was strange... why couldn't I tell Obie? He was practically my uncle, and Pepper was my secretary....
But I'll trust DS, I'll read alone, if there's nothing serious, I'll tell them what I found.
—I assume you heard me, if not, well, problems happened, I'll probably curse you tomorrow, and when I end up on your planet, I'll piss on your grave.@@@@
—That said, now onto step 2!
—Step 2 is, find a place where you have total confidence that there's no listening device or spy camera...
Spy camera? I'm in my lab, there's no way there's a spy camera here...
—If you thought, "I'm in my lab, there's no way there's a spy camera here," you already messed up. Find a real place where you are ABSOLUTELY sure there are no cameras!
—Even though I trust the Stream and my title to keep everything hidden, being cautious is never too much!
—If you want to check for cameras, be smart, pretend some mistake or something, that "unfortunately" fried your whole lab, including the cameras.
Okay... that's scary. Why would he think I have spy cameras in my lab? No one comes in here except for me and... Obie and Pepper...
It took a few minutes, and an experiment gone "wrong" with an EMP for me to find not one, not two or three, but thirty-eight cameras and microphones!
I managed to recover some things, even after the EMP, and found that about five of those cameras were Obie's, and the rest from a completely different place that I couldn't figure out...
Damn! Okay, something really wrong was happening here!
The "happier" part was that from the videos I managed to recover, whenever I appeared watching the stream, or at least should be watching the stream, the footage changed completely.
Literally, the recording was altered, showing me doing something totally different, but still normal, something I would do.
That was frankly scary... At least Pepper didn't have any cameras here...
I had to calm down from this discovery for a few minutes, then, I went back to reading the letter.
—Well, if you've reached step 3, congratulations! You've found out that things are not what they seem and that shit is much deeper than you expected.
—Well, step 3 doesn't exist, burn this letter, incinerate it, throw it in the sea afterward, just destroy it and move on to the next letter!
At this point, I really wanted to know what was written in these letters, so I quickly grabbed the next one...
It was a middle finger, very poorly drawn, and a penis drawing, like the ones they draw on school desks...
—I didn't give Sally much information, as she's just a single mother, but you, my friend, you're Tony Stark.
—You have money and a brilliant brain (as much as it hurts me to say that).
—So go and do what you do best, build something, and something big, because we're going to need it...
—Signed: "The Streamer"
...
...
I sighed, deeply, and took a deep breath.
Okay... that was a lot of information, but still, DS said he summarized a lot for my well-being... What a mess, damn it...
I've always known the world wasn't a bed of roses, but being a cesspool is just mean...
I didn't stop, lying down, because I knew I would end up staying there for a while, so I picked up the last letter to read.
—I reached the last letter; it's basically a summary, so you can read it at your own pace. Essentially, it was what would happen to you if you hadn't found the phone.
—Honestly, I've seen some versions of people who ended up there, who just let things happen since this would be a "necessary Event," something that would shape your hero personality, creating the "Iron Man."
—Honestly, I don't care. It's in my title, fuck destiny, fuck the plot. If I can help a friend, I'll help!
—Clutching onto something like "canon," not wanting to change it out of fear of the future is natural, scary.
—It would be the best option, from a certain point of view, something a hero would choose.
—But I'm not a hero, so fuck it!
—First of all, I'm human. I'm selfish, hypocritical, probably a bit crazy, and I've had family problems. So tell me, "Iron Man," did I make the wrong choice or the right one? I await your answer in the future.
— [Insert a summary of the movie Iron Man 1 here]
—PS: Enjoy, and go watch your dad's videos; maybe you'll discover something... Your father really loved you, know that, it's something that is often rare...
I didn't know what to think, frankly, I didn't know.
Ignoring everything else, just knowing that all this would happen this year is already a tremendous bomb thrown in my face... Or one of my missiles, isn't it...
It all seemed like a big tasteless joke, Obie betraying me, selling me to terrorists, me getting shrapnel in my chest, creating an armor, and becoming a superhero...
Honestly, I just wanted to sleep, rest, and wake up tomorrow, pretending it was all a dream...
I got up, went to my computer. Let's follow DS's advice, finish Jarvis.
... But I couldn't, could I?
After all, I can't throw away the chips that DS bet on me.
I didn't need traumas and messed-up events to change; I could very well change on my own.
If I have to be a hero, the "Iron Man," then I will be the "Iron Man."
After all, Devas bet on me; I won't let it be the wrong bet... Now, let's see if I can get the evidence I need to arrest my business partner...
I need to buy those stocks too; DS may have said it jokingly, but let's see what I can do...
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