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Chapter 10 - Crack in the Armour

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The hum of machinery filled the workshop, broken only by the rhythmic tapping of a wrench against metal. Tony Stark stood hunched over his workstation, tweaking something inside one of his suits. His back was to me, his movements controlled but stiff.

I knew the signs.

He was pissed.

I leaned against my own desk, arms crossed. "You're mad at me."

Tony didn't turn. "Mad? No. Just annoyed."

"Yeah, because that's so much better," I muttered.

He finally turned, fixing me with that sharp, assessing gaze. "Let's talk about your little project."

I tensed. "Project Mimic is my work—"

"And you've been working on it nonstop without even telling me how it functions," Tony cut in. "And then you decide to field-test it against Natasha of all people? You could've gotten yourself killed."

I scoffed. "It's fine. The suit held up."

Tony's jaw clenched. "That's not the point, Arjun. You've been running yourself ragged over this Hydra thing."

I met his gaze. "I don't see how that's different from anything you do."

Silence.

His grip tightened on the wrench. I could tell he was trying to keep his temper in check. "You're not me," he finally said.

I pushed off the table, my frustration boiling over. "Yeah, I know. I don't have a suit of armor that lets me fly halfway across the world in minutes. I don't have the Avengers following my lead. You do. And yet, Wanda and Pietro are still in Hydra's hands."

Tony's face hardened.

I continued, my voice quieter. "I refuse to sit here while they suffer."

He exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Look, I get it. You're angry. But if you rush in, you're gonna get yourself captured or worse."

I clenched my fists. "Then help me."

Tony didn't answer.

I waited.

But when it became obvious he wasn't going to say anything, I turned and muttered, "J.A.R.V.I.S., pull up Sokovia intel."

Tony sighed—then walked out.

The door slammed behind him.

The next evening, I stood on the Avengers' private training field.

The suit wasn't complete, but I needed a test run.

Project Mimic functioned on the principle of adaptive combat learning—a chip implanted in the suit recorded and replicated the fighting styles of whoever I encountered.

Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers stood nearby, watching.

"You sure about this?" Steve asked, arms crossed.

I flexed my fingers, feeling the lightweight metallic gloves respond to my movements. "Only one way to find out."

Natasha smirked. "Alright, genius. Let's see what you've got."

I activated the system.

A jolt ran through me as the chip interfaced with my nervous system. The combat learning algorithms engaged.

And then—

Natasha moved.

She lunged.

But this time—

I dodged.

Not because I saw it coming.

But because the suit anticipated her motion, adjusting my stance before my brain could.

Natasha's smirk widened.

"Not bad."

She threw a high kick.

I instinctively blocked, my arm moving with perfect precision.

For the first time, I wasn't completely outclassed.

And then—

She feinted left, spun right—

And swept my legs out from under me.

Pain exploded as I hit the ground hard.

Steve winced. "Ouch."

Natasha crouched beside me, amused. "Better. But still predictable."

I groaned. "The system still needs time to adapt."

She patted my shoulder. "Then train harder."

I exhaled, staring up at the sky.

I had improved.

But not enough.

Not yet.

Later that night, I returned to the lab.

Tony was already there.

I barely noticed him—until he spoke.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., pull up the footage from today's training session."

I frowned. "Why?"

Tony crossed his arms. "Because I need to know how badly you got your ass kicked."

I sighed. "Natasha won. Obviously."

He studied the footage, nodding. "You kept up better than I expected."

I turned back to my workstation. "The suit still needs work."

Tony hesitated. Then—

"You know, you don't have to prove anything."

I stopped typing.

His voice was quiet.

"You're already smarter than me," he admitted. "But intelligence isn't everything. If you go after Hydra like this, you'll get yourself killed."

I clenched my fists. "Then help me."

Tony looked at me, conflicted.

But he shook his head.

"I can't support this."

Frustration flared inside me. "You're Iron Man. You've gone after worse threats."

"I had backup."

I scoffed. "Yeah? From the same people who let Hydra thrive right under their noses?"

Tony stiffened.

I saw the flash of guilt in his eyes before he masked it.

"I'm not making the same mistakes S.H.I.E.L.D. did," I said.

His expression hardened. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

I turned to face him fully.

"You trusted the system. You believed in it," I said, voice cold. "And look where that got us. Hydra grew under your watch."

Tony's jaw clenched. "I was trying to protect people."

"So am I."

Silence.

Then, Tony sighed.

"I don't want to fight you, kid."

I swallowed. "Then don't."

Another long silence.

Then—Tony turned and left.

I stared at my work.

The suit was incomplete.

The plan wasn't solid.

But Hydra still had Wanda and Pietro.

And every second I hesitated… they suffered.

I took a deep breath.

I needed help.

And if Tony wouldn't give it—

Then I'd find someone who would.

I pulled up the encrypted channels.

J.A.R.V.I.S.'s voice chimed in. "Sir, I detect unusual activity on secured servers. Are you certain—"

"Yes," I muttered.

I began typing.

And sent a message to the only person I knew who could get me intel on Hydra.

### TO: Maria Hill

SUBJECT: We Need to Talk.

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[End ]

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