→ 250 POWER STONES= 1 BONUS CHAPTER
→ 450 POWER STONES= 2nd BONUS CHAPTER
→ 600 POWER STONES = 1 SIDE STORY
CURRENT PROGRESS:↓
– FIRST OBJECTIVE:- 290/250 P.S ✓
– SECOND OBJECTIVE- 366/450 P.S
– THIRD OBJECTIVE-/ 600 P.S
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Tony looked at Nova, who had just finished pounding a Humvee into a pancake and was now standing there—not as a hulking tiger-man, but as a calm teenage boy, dusting himself off like he hadn't just rampaged through a terrorist compound.
His voice held equal parts confusion and curiosity. "Are you a mutant? Because only mutants have powers that weird. Shapeshifting, enhanced strength... you tick a lot of boxes."
Nova smiled coolly. "Indeed. I'm an Omega-rank mutant."
Yinsen blinked. "Omega... rank?"
Tony, however, froze for a split second. His eyes widened slightly. That term wasn't new to him. "Pepper sure has some interesting connections if she's bringing in Omega-level firepower to bust me out of a cave."
Nova tilted his head, amused. "She didn't reach us. I reached her… through a mutual acquaintance."
That answer made Tony's brow furrow. "Huh. And what's your motive, then?" He gestured vaguely toward the others. "You tracked her down, not the other way around. That means you wanted my help… or maybe something from Stark Industries."
Nova didn't say anything. Instead, he turned toward Harry.
Harry stepped forward with his usual casual confidence. "Greetings, Mr. Stark. I'm Harry Osborn. Currently the largest shareholder of Oscorp."
Tony arched an eyebrow, arms crossing. "Funny. I don't recall Norman ever mentioning a mutant son… Or that he had a son, for that matter."
Then his gaze slid to Peter and Ned. He narrowed his eyes. "Wait… you three," he said slowly, pointing at them one at a time, "have the same mutation. That regenerative thing. I saw bullets go through your chest, and a second later—no scar, no damage. Just... healed."
Peter raised his hand, muttering under his breath, "It hurt like hell, though."
Ned followed with a deadpan groan. "Yeah, and no one ever talks about the mental damage."
Tony smirked faintly at that but didn't lose focus. He looked back to Harry, expectant.
Without missing a beat, Harry pulled a small metallic vial from his pack and held it up for Tony and Yinsen to see. "This," he said, "is the base version of something we've been working on. We call it the healing potion. It accelerates recovery from minor wounds in mere seconds."
Tony leaned in slightly, eyebrow arching again. "Potion?" He scoffed. "Teenagers."
Yinsen, however, looked intrigued. "You've created a biological accelerant? A regenerative compound that doesn't require surgical intervention?"
Harry nodded. "Exactly. This one handles cuts, bruises, fractures, even minor burns. But the advanced version? That one can regenerate muscle tissue, restore nerves, even reattach or regrow severed limbs."
Yinsen stared, wide-eyed. "That… that changes the entire medical landscape."
Tony raised the vial up to the light, inspecting it. "So, let me get this straight. You three teenagers—with zero official government support, no clinical trials, and probably way too much free time—developed something that'll make half the biotech world crap themselves in fear?"
Harry grinned. "More or less."
Tony nodded slowly, still processing. "Okay, well… now I really feel like I've been stuck in a cave too long."
Yinsen chuckled. "You were."
Peter added with a grin, "And you almost got turned into barbecue while you were at it."
Tony shot him a look, but the corners of his mouth twitched. He looked at the serum but didn't ask for it. Afterall it's not a good idea to inject something in the body given by strangers, especially teenage strangers.
After a while he asked," So what deal did you make with Pepper? In fact I can guess it's about support of Stark Industries? Afterall if you four release these serums, they will be taken over by the other shareholders of Oscorp. So you want support of Stark Industries, to deal with political and internal pressure etc. Clear move."
While Harry and others got comfortable with Tony and Yinsen, Nova thought about the meeting with Pepper Potts.
-----
FLASHBACK
It had been two months since Tony Stark disappeared.
Sixty days since the footage of his Jericho missile demonstration lit up news screens with fanfare—followed by silence. No private jet returning to Los Angeles. No sarcastic voicemail blaming the desert heat for bad reception. No Tony.
Pepper Potts sat alone in her house, sunlight spilling across the polished hardwood floors. Stark Industries continued to run under Obadiah Stane's management. The board stayed mostly calm. The public remained unaware of how dire things truly were.
She'd told herself at first that it was another one of his stunts. That maybe he got distracted mid-project, or whisked away by some reckless idea. But those excuses didn't last. Not after word came back from the Middle East—ambush, gunfire, chaos. The Ten Rings had claimed responsibility.
And then... nothing.
No body. No communication. No trace.
Pepper had done everything she could. She worked through official channels. Then she pulled unofficial strings. She called in favors from dangerous people in powerful places. Every lead went cold.
Desperation stripped away pride.
Three weeks ago, she contacted someone she hadn't spoken to in years—Emma Frost. They'd crossed paths during a corporate scandal involving Stark tech and a biotech startup tied to mutant research. Pepper had quietly helped Emma once. Now, she needed help in return.
Emma, composed and lethal as ever, hadn't hesitated. She contacted both Charles Xavier and even Magneto at Pepper's request. Between the world's most gifted telepath and leader of mutant group, Pepper had dared to hope.
But they couldn't find him.
Emma's words still echoed in her mind.
"He's not dead, Pepper. I'd feel it. But it's like... he's invisible. Either he's being kept somewhere that blocks psychic interference, or he himself is immune to mind reading."
Pepper had no reply to that. She'd just stood there, numb.
Until a few days ago.
At 2:43 p.m., a message lit up her phone from Emma:
"I have a friend who might be able to find Tony Stark."
That was it. No name. No explanation. But it was the first real movement in weeks.
Now, in her quiet home, standing in the sunlight of her private study, Pepper felt something she hadn't felt in a long time—hope.
Emma had told her the person would simply appear in her house. Pepper had expected strange. What she hadn't expected was the anxiety. Emma had warned her: this person was a newly awakened Omega-level mutant.
Mutants were a known part of the world now—accepted in some places, feared in most. Especially after the extermination event.
Their powers varied wildly—from subtle to terrifying. The most terrifying being Omega Rank Mutant, monsters amongst monsters. Their are walking calamity, if they fully managed to control and understand their ability. This is one of the reason why goverment's over the globe didn't dare utter a word even after the Extermination event. All because of ten known omega rank mutants.
Names like Jean Grey, Storm, and Iceman were whispered through black-budget meetings and military back channels. Their abilities didn't just defy logic—they rewrote it. Altough they are all three young and cannot control their abilities but Omega rank are Omega rank, no matter what.
Besides Sebestian Shaw of Hellfire club, Magneto of Mutant of Brotherhood and Charles Xavier of X-Men are all three mutant with Omega rank power. They are not omega rank mutant but their sheet experience and strength marks then as Omega rank.
But even the known lists were incomplete. There were others. Hidden. Unregistered. Too dangerous or too unpredictable to expose, Omega rankers.
Emma had made it clear: this person was one of them. Newly awakened. Off the radar.
---
Pepper took a breath.
And then the house changed.
No wind. No flash of light. No sound. Just stillness.
Reality folded in on itself, like the world held its breath—then he was there.
He stood in the center of the room, calm as if he'd always belonged.
Tall. Over six feet. Fit—not gym-rat shredded, but lean and solid. A body built for performance, not aesthetics. His hair was jet black, cropped short and slightly tousled. His eyes, also black, held an unnatural calm—like the ocean at night. Deep, dark, and hiding something massive beneath the surface.
He looked young. Early twenties, maybe. But his presence was anything but youthful.
Maybe that's what raw Omega power felt like in person.
----
Nova exhaled slowly. The loophole worked.
Technically, he hadn't teleported. He just gamed the system. Asked Peter to make a wish—"I want Nova to appear in front of Pepper Potts in the coolest, smoothest way possible." Boom. Reality bent to make it happen.
Nova looked at the woman in front of him.
First impression? Damn.
Hotter than the movies, hotter than the comics, hotter than fanfics dared to describe. And yeah, it made sense. She worked for a billionaire playboy and somehow managed to tame the bastard. That kind of woman wasn't going to look average.
Photos hadn't done her justice.
She stood tall, poised, posture screaming executive energy. Sharp. Polished. All business.
But that just made everything hit harder.
Legs for days, hugged tight by tailored slacks that probably cost more than his old apartment. Hips built to ruin men, swaying with the kind of natural grace that wasn't for show—it was just how she moved. A trim waist that begged for hands. And her chest—sweet hell. That blouse was doing God's work, clinging in all the right places without looking like it tried too hard.
And her face? Classic beauty. High cheekbones. Soft, commanding eyes. Lips that could switch between barking orders and shutting you up the fun way. Hair pulled back like she didn't have time for nonsense—except for the few rebellious strands that framed her face like a tease.
She was the full damn fantasy.
How the hell is Stark not hitting that every damn night? Nova thought. If she worked for me, I'd have her bent over every table in the building before lunch.
He smirked.
Hell, I'd have her under the conference table during board meetings. Let the execs wonder why I always looked so damn relaxed. Redhead like that? You don't just manage her. You conquer her—then beg for more.
His thoughts drifted to how he could make it all happen, the image of Pepper sprawled out on a desk, confident yet craving control, but that was nothing more than a fantasy.
Still, he reminded himself—this wasn't just some fantasy. He can indeed fuck her but it will cause him problems as she was Tony Stark's. Despite them not being in any relationship, its still a trouble he is not willing to take afterall he is here to make a deal that will be very beneficial for both sides.
He will bring back Tony Stark safe and sound, in return they will support us.
Despite Harry's majority stake in Oscorp, it wasn't enough. The other shareholders were the real power behind the scenes, and Nova knew they were the type to screw things up just for the sake of profit. Just like in that Amazing Spider-Man timeline, he thought grimly. Where they framed Osborn and sent him to jail and all that shit.
If they launched the serum project without proper backing, they'd be swarmed—politically, legally, financially. They needed allies with pull.
And it seems fate was in our favour, afterall Tony Stark was missing and he knew it where he was kept... Well he doesn't really know it exactly. But he can find it, besides he knows about true story behind Stark's kidnapping, which is his real trump card.
---
Taking a deep breath, Nova adjusted his posture, letting some of that cocky confidence return as he met Pepper's eyes.
"Pepper Potts," he said smoothly, voice low and velvety. "I've heard a lot about your efficiency... and your looks. You must be damn impressive to keep up with Stark—man goes through women like suits and still kept you by his side."
His gaze dipped—brief, deliberate, unapologetic.
"But your beauty," he continued, his voice silkier now, "that's something else. I knew you were impressive, but... damn. Stark's got good taste. Both in tech and in women."
Pepper didn't flinch.
No blush. No reaction. Her heels hadn't shifted. She didn't reach for her phone. She didn't panic.
But everything about her posture screamed tension. This wasn't some smooth-talking stranger.
This was him.
The one Emma warned her about.
An Omega mutant.
Unknown. Unregistered. And now in her home. Her voice came out cool and level. "Who are you?"
Nova grinned. "Nova Ashbourne. Newly awakened Omega-rank mutant. My main business? Deals. You want something—tech, knowledge, even things outside your world—I can bring it to you. For a fair price, of course."
He took a step forward. The air around him seemed to pull, fold, bend slightly with the weight of his presence.
"My business name," he added, "is The Trader."
FLASHBACK ENDS
XxxxX
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