Marvel: The saiyan

"Yo, Stark, good luck with all that," I said, keeping my tone casual, though my words carried the weight of hesitation. "I believe you can deal with it. But call me if anything happens." My voice betrayed a bitterness I tried to mask, though deep down, I knew exactly why it was there.

Tony glanced up from his workstation, his hands pausing mid-air as he adjusted the Mark III's repulsor casing. He smirked, his trademark bravado evident even now. "Yeah, don't worry," he said, waving me off with a confidence I envied.

I nodded, turning on my heel to leave, but the weight of guilt dug into my chest with every step I took. As I exited his lab, the air outside felt heavier than before.

I had been given this second chance at life—or whatever you could call this existence—and yet, as I flew back to my house, guilt and fear clung to me like a shroud. I knew exactly why.

'I've already died once,' I thought, the memory flashing across my mind. Cold. Empty. A meaningless end. If I interfered too much here, if I changed the course of events beyond recognition, what would happen to me?

Would I vanish? Would I crumble under the weight of my own choices? Or worse… would this world tear itself apart?

The idea of dying again, pointlessly, terrified me. It was a deep, primal fear buried beneath the layers of strength and training I'd cultivated. No matter how powerful I had become, this small, ugly part of me—the part that clung to survival at all costs—remained.

As the wind rushed past my ears, carrying the salty ocean scent of Malibu, I muttered to myself, "Maybe it's just me overthinking. Maybe I'm imagining consequences that won't even happen. Maybe it'll all work out in the end."

But deep down, I didn't believe it. Even after all my training, even with all my power, my fear had revealed my true self. For all my strength, I was scared.

Scared of what? Scared of dying again? Scared of failing?

No.

I was scared of not knowing my place here. Of being unable to decide whether I was a part of this world or just an intruder who didn't belong.

I pushed the thoughts aside as I flew higher, farther, ignoring the weight in my gut as best as I could. For now, I had no answers. Only guilt and doubt.

Meanwhile, at Stark Industries

In the sterile silence of Stark's office, Pepper Potts sat at Tony's computer, the glow of the monitor reflecting in her worried eyes. She worked quickly, her fingers dancing over the keyboard as she inserted the lock chip Tony had given her.

"Sector 16," she muttered under her breath, scrolling through the files. "What are you up to, Obadiah?"

Her heart raced as the screen displayed a folder containing several encrypted files. It didn't take long for her to find one labeled Hostage Video. As she clicked it open, her stomach sank.

Video Voiceover:

"You did not tell us that the target you paid us to kill was the great Tony Stark. As you can see, Obadiah Stane..."

Pepper's breath caught in her throat as the grainy footage played. The video showed Tony, battered and bruised, being held captive in the Ten Rings' cave. She watched as one of the terrorists spat words at the camera in anger.

"Your deception and lies will cost you dearly. The price to kill Tony Stark has just gone up."

Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling the gasp that escaped.

"Oh my God," she whispered.

"Pepper," came a smooth, gravelly voice from the doorway.

She whipped her head around, her pulse skyrocketing as Obadiah Stane stepped into the office. His hulking frame filled the doorway, and though his smile was as warm and friendly as ever, there was a darkness in his eyes that sent a shiver down her spine.

"So," Stane said, strolling casually into the room, his hands clasped behind his back, "what are we going to do about this?"

Pepper's hands instinctively hovered near the keyboard, but she forced herself to relax, sliding them into her lap. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice calm, though her heart thundered in her chest.

Stane didn't stop moving until he was standing just a few feet away. He gestured toward the monitor with a lazy wave of his hand. "Come on, Pepper. Don't play coy. Tony always gets the good stuff, doesn't he? The glory, the genius… the adoration of people like you."

She flinched at his tone, but kept her composure. "Tony's been through a lot," she said, choosing her words carefully. "He's complicated, but I think he'll be okay."

Stane smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You're a rare woman, Pepper. Tony doesn't know how lucky he is to have you."

"Thank you," Pepper said quickly, standing from the chair and slipping the drive under a nearby newspaper. "I should get going. Tony's waiting for me."

As she moved to leave, Stane glanced down at the newspaper. "Is that today's paper?"

"Yes," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Do you mind if I take it?"

"Not at all," she replied, stepping aside as he grabbed it.

For a moment, they locked eyes. His smile lingered, but it didn't soften the tension in the room.

"Take care, Pepper," Stane said, his voice almost too polite.

"Of course," she replied, forcing herself to walk out of the room at a calm, steady pace.

The moment she was out of sight, her pace quickened, her breathing shallow as she clutched the drive in her hand. Her mind raced with possibilities, fears, and doubts.

As she rounded the corner, she nearly bumped into Agent Coulson, who raised an eyebrow at her frazzled state.

"Ms. Potts?" Coulson asked. "We had an appointment. Did you forget about our meeting?"

"Nope," Pepper said quickly, her voice tight with urgency. "We're going to have it right now. Come with me."

"Right now?" Coulson echoed, glancing at his watch.

"Yes," she said, pulling him along. "You're about to have the meeting of your life."

Obadiah returned to a hidden section of the building—Sector 16. Engineers bustled around him, working on the Mark I prototype he had salvaged from the Ten Rings' camp. Sparks flew as welders reinforced the armor's frame, and computers beeped as the scientists scrambled to replicate Tony's arc reactor.

One of the engineers, William, approached nervously, his face pale.

"Mr. Stane," he began, wringing his hands. "We've… hit a bit of a hiccup."

"A hiccup?" Stane asked, his voice dangerously calm.

"Y-Yes," William stammered. "The technology you're asking us to replicate—it doesn't exist. At least, not at this scale. It's… impossible to power the suit without—"

"Without what?" Stane snapped, his temper flaring. "Tony Stark was able to build this in a cave! With a box of scraps!"

William flinched but held his ground. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm not Tony Stark."

Stane glared at him, the veins in his neck bulging as his anger boiled over. He took a step closer, towering over the engineer.

"Then you'd better figure it out," Stane growled. "Because if you don't, I'll find someone who can."

The room fell silent, the weight of his threat hanging heavily in the air.

Stane turned on his heel and strode toward the armor, his eyes narrowing as he studied its unfinished frame. His fingers brushed against the cold metal, and a cruel smile crept across his face.

"Tony's been holding out on us," he muttered to himself. "But not for long."

Back at my house, I stood in the darkened clearing, staring up at the sky. The guilt I had pushed down earlier was clawing its way back up, refusing to be ignored.

For all my training, all my power, I still couldn't shake the feeling that I was making a mistake.

I had convinced myself that staying out of it was the safest option. That Tony, Pepper, and the rest of this world could handle its own problems. But deep down, I knew the truth.

I was scared. Scared that if I interfered too much, I would ruin everything. Scared that the ripple effects of my actions would lead to consequences I couldn't predict—or control.

And yet, as the night stretched on, that fear warred with something else.

Something louder.

Something that refused to let me walk away.

"ARGGGGGGHHHHHH!" The scream tore out of my throat, raw and guttural, echoing through the darkened forest around my secluded home. My ki flared uncontrollably, sending gusts of wind tearing through the trees.

I stood in the center of the clearing, panting heavily, the golden energy flickering around me like wildfire. My fists clenched tightly, nails digging into my palms, and I couldn't hold back anymore.

"What the fuck do you want me to do?!" I shouted, the words hanging in the air as though I was yelling at someone—but there was no one here. No audience, no enemies, no gods pulling the strings. Just me. Maybe I was talking to the void. Maybe I was talking to myself.

My tail flicked violently behind me, betraying the turbulence roiling inside me. "I was just a regular guy! Just some dude, doing his best to make it through life! Then out of nowhere, BAM—reincarnated in some alien body in a completely different show I wasn't supposed to be in! Marvel! Of all things, how is this even my life?!"

My voice cracked as I ranted, the frustration pouring out of me like an unrelenting torrent. "I didn't ask for this! I didn't ask to be thrown into some sci-fi superhero world! I didn't ask to be reborn as a Saiyan, or whatever the hell this is supposed to mean!"

I let out another yell, a blast of energy firing from my palm and obliterating a nearby boulder into dust. My breathing was erratic, my head pounding. The swirling weight of guilt and fear had been building inside me for days—weeks—and now it was too much.

"I'm just doing what I can to survive!" I roared, glaring up at the stars as though the universe itself was listening. "I'm not a hero. I'm not some chosen savior. I'm just me—a guy trying not to get himself killed again!"

The words felt hollow, even as they left my mouth. I knew it, deep down.

"And Stark—he's not gonna die! He survives this! He makes it through, builds his suits, defeats Stane, joins the Avengers, and all that jazz! He doesn't need me! He's gonna be fine! So why do you keep pestering me?!"

I stared up at the sky, my chest heaving, expecting… what? An answer? A sign? Anything?

But there was only silence.

The stars twinkled innocently above, the forest rustled softly in the wind, and the world continued on, oblivious to my struggles.

I fell to my knees, my hands digging into the dirt as I tried to catch my breath. The energy around me dimmed, flickering out like a dying flame. My strength felt like a curse in moments like this—a weight I couldn't shake.

"Why…?" I muttered, my voice trembling now. "Why do I feel this way?"

The truth was something I didn't want to admit, but it clawed its way to the surface anyway.

I was scared.

I had been scared since the moment I woke up in this body, on this Earth, in this world that wasn't mine. I had trained, I had fought, I had become stronger than I ever thought possible—but none of it had erased the fear.

The fear of losing control. The fear of dying again. The fear of screwing everything up.

And most of all, the fear that I wasn't supposed to be here at all.

I punched the ground, the impact sending a small shockwave through the clearing. "Why me?" I whispered, my voice barely audible now.

For a long moment, I just sat there, letting the cool night air wash over me. My tail coiled tightly around my waist, a subconscious sign of my tension.

I thought back to Stark. To Pepper. To Yinsen. To all the people who had been caught in the wake of this story.

I had told myself that keeping my distance was the right thing to do—that it was the safest way to survive. But if that were true… why did it feel so wrong?

As the night dragged on, I sat alone in the clearing, staring at the scorched patch of earth I'd left in my moment of rage. My chest ached—not from the exertion, but from the weight of uncertainty that clung to me like a parasite. The fear, the doubt, the guilt—they all gnawed at the edges of my resolve, leaving me raw and exposed.

And yet, as much as I wanted to run from it all, something inside me refused to let go.

I stood, dusting off my hands, and looked back toward the faint glow of Malibu in the distance. Stark would survive, I told myself again.

He didn't need me to hold his hand or interfere. This was his story—his fight. My role was just to stay out of the way.

My tail flicked behind me as I set off. Something was off. As I picked my phone, I saw a message from Tony, Help.

The readout was faint but clear: I needed to intervene. "Shit," I muttered under my breath.

I didn't wait for further confirmation. The guilt I'd been drowning in evaporated in an instant, replaced by a sharp, focused urgency. Whatever was happening, I couldn't ignore it—not this time.

Inside Stark's Mansion

Tony sat in his workshop, a single glass of scotch untouched beside him as he examined the Mark III suit's holographic display. His hands moved methodically, adjusting specifications and running simulations, his mind consumed by calculations and possibilities.

But behind the steady rhythm of his work, Pepper's earlier words lingered in his mind.

"You're going to kill yourself, Tony. I'm not going to be a part of it."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. Pepper was right—in her own way. But what choice did he have? He'd seen the horrors his weapons had wrought. He'd seen the pain and destruction they caused, the lives they ruined. If not him, then who?

The sound of footsteps pulled him from his thoughts. He turned, expecting to see Pepper—or maybe even me—standing in the doorway.

Instead, it was Obadiah.

Tony's brow furrowed. "Obie? What are you doing here this late?"

Obadiah stepped into the room with an easy smile, but there was something unsettling about the way he carried himself—too casual, too calculated. He held up a hand, gesturing for Tony to stay seated.

"Relax, Tony," Stane said smoothly. "Just thought I'd stop by for a little chat. You've been working hard—too hard, if you ask me."

Tony frowned, his instincts kicking in. Something wasn't right. "Yeah, well, there's a lot to do. You know how it is."

"Of course," Stane replied, nodding as he stepped closer. His hands were clasped behind his back, his tone calm—too calm. "You've always been a perfectionist, Tony. It's what makes you so… valuable."

Before Tony could respond, Stane's hand shot forward, holding a small, sleek device—a device Tony recognized immediately.

"Wait, what are you—"

The pulse from the sonic paralyzer hit Tony like a freight train, locking his muscles in place. His body seized up, his breath caught in his throat as he collapsed back into the chair. His eyes widened in shock and betrayal as Stane stepped closer, the device still humming faintly in his hand.

"Breathe," Stane said, his voice calm and almost mocking. "Easy, easy. You remember this one, right? It's a shame the government didn't approve it. There are so many applications for causing short-term paralysis."

Tony tried to speak, to move, but his body refused to obey. His chest heaved with shallow, labored breaths as Stane loomed over him.

"When I ordered the hit on you," Stane continued, his tone casual, as though discussing business over coffee, "I'll admit, I worried that I was killing the golden goose. But you see, it was just fate that you survived that."

He reached down, grabbing the arc reactor embedded in Tony's chest, his fingers curling around it with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"You had one last golden egg to give," Stane said, his voice dropping to a whisper. With a sharp tug, he ripped the arc reactor from Tony's chest.

Tony gasped, his body convulsing as the reactor was torn free, leaving behind an empty, hollow cavity. The faint glow of the arc reactor dimmed as Stane held it up, admiring it like a priceless artifact.

"Do you really think that just because you have an idea, it belongs to you?" Stane said, his voice laced with contempt. "Your father helped give us the atomic bomb. What kind of world would it be today if he was as selfish as you?"

Tony's vision blurred, his breaths shallow and uneven as he struggled to stay conscious. Stane leaned closer, his voice dropping to a cold, venomous whisper.

"It's beautiful, Tony," he said, holding the arc reactor up like a trophy. "This is your Ninth Symphony. What a masterpiece. Look at that. This is your legacy—a new generation of weapons with this at its heart. Weapons that will help steer the world back on course, put the balance of power in our hands. The right hands."

Stane straightened, slipping the arc reactor into his pocket. His smile widened, a cruel, triumphant expression that sent a chill through the room.

"I wish you could've seen my prototype," he said, turning toward the door. "It's not as… conservative as yours."

He paused, glancing back over his shoulder, his smile fading slightly. "Too bad you had to involve Pepper in this. I would have preferred that she lived."

But as he reached the doorway, he pulled a gun from his jacket and aimed it at Tony. "I'm sad to part ways with you like this," he said. "But this… this is just insurance."

By the time I arrived at Stark's mansion, the air was heavy with tension.

I landed on the balcony outside his workshop, my boots hitting the ground with a dull thud. The sight that greeted me sent a jolt of anger through my chest.

Tony was slumped in his chair, his body limp and his breathing shallow. His chest—the spot where the arc reactor once glowed brightly—was empty, the hollow cavity a stark reminder of what had just happened. Blood was seeping slowly from the wound, staining his shirt.

"Stark!" I shouted, rushing to his side.

His eyes fluttered open, his gaze unfocused as he struggled to speak. "Shallot…" he rasped, his voice barely audible.

"Stay with me," I said, my tone sharp as I examined the damage. My mind raced, piecing together what must have happened.

"Pepper…" Tony gasped, his voice weak. "Find… Pepper…"

I clenched my fists, my ki flickering faintly around me as rage boiled in my chest. But there was no time for anger—not yet. I bolted toward the case where he kept his old arc reactor—the prototype he'd built in the cave.

With a sharp blow, I shattered the glass, grabbing the device and rushing back to him. The glow was faint, but it was enough. I pressed it into his chest, connecting it to the empty cavity.

Tony gasped as the reactor powered up, his breathing stabilizing slightly. But the blood loss was another issue entirely. I moved quickly, applying pressure to the wound with makeshift bandages torn from a nearby cloth.

Then, without hesitation, I scooped him up and flew toward the nearest hospital, the wind howling in my ears as the city lights blurred beneath me.

"Don't worry," I said, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me. "I'll handle it."

The cold night air hit me as I streaked through the sky, the faint glow of Stark Industries visible in the distance. Every muscle in my body burned with adrenaline as I pushed myself to fly faster. Stark had left Pepper's safety in my hands, and I wasn't going to let him down—not after what had just happened to him.

The nurse's reassurances replayed in my mind: "Don't worry, he will make it."

It was a small comfort, but it was enough to let me focus on the next immediate danger—Obadiah.

"She must be with Agent Coulson," I muttered to myself as I adjusted my flight path toward the glowing tower of Stark Industries. "Hope he can buy enough time."

Revealing my abilities to S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't something I'd planned on, but at this point, there was no choice. If it came to that, I'd deal with the consequences later.

Meanwhile, at Stark Industries

Pepper paced nervously outside Obadiah's office, her phone pressed tightly to her ear. She had already tried calling Tony multiple times with no success. Frustration and fear churned in her gut as she hesitated before making another call. Finally, she dialed Rhodey.

"Rhodey, it's me," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

"What's going on, Pepper?" Rhodey asked, concern creeping into his tone.

"Tony's not answering his phone," she said quickly. "And I… I found something. Obadiah—he paid to have Tony killed."

There was a long pause on the other end before Rhodey's voice came through, sharp and serious. "What do you mean he paid to have Tony killed? Slow down, Pepper. Why would Obadiah do that?"

"I don't know! But I found a video. The Ten Rings said Obadiah ordered the hit. Rhodey, please, you have to go check on Tony. He might still be with Shallot, but something's wrong."

"Shallot?" Rhodey repeated, the name dripping with suspicion. He didn't trust me, that much was clear—and honestly, I couldn't blame him. "Alright, I'll head over there now. Just stay safe, Pepper."

"Rhodey," Pepper said, her voice cracking slightly. "Be careful."

"I will," he promised before hanging up.

When Rhodey arrived at Tony's house, the eerie stillness immediately put him on edge. The usually vibrant space felt wrong—too quiet, too empty. The faint hum of the arc reactor in the workshop was the only sound breaking the silence.

"Tony?" Rhodey called out as he entered, his voice echoing slightly.

There was no response. He moved cautiously through the house, his footsteps muffled by the plush rugs. By the time he reached the workshop, his instincts were screaming that something bad had happened.

The sight of the damaged equipment and overturned furniture confirmed it. His gut twisted as he approached the workbench, where J.A.R.V.I.S.'s calm, mechanical voice greeted him.

"Good evening, Colonel Rhodes."

"J.A.R.V.I.S., where's Tony?" Rhodey asked, his voice tight with urgency.

"Mr. Stark was recently incapacitated by Mr. Obadiah Stane," J.A.R.V.I.S. replied matter-of-factly. "Shallot transported him to the nearest hospital in time to stabilize his condition."

Rhodey blinked, processing the words. "Shallot? He's involved in this too?"

"Affirmative."

Rhodey let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. "Damn it, Tony…" He pulled out his phone and called Pepper.

Back at Stark Industries

Pepper stood with Agent Coulson in the dimly lit corridors of Section 16. The tension in the air was almost suffocating as she glanced nervously over her shoulder. Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she quickly answered it.

"Rhodey, did you find him?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Yeah," Rhodey said. "Shallot got him to the hospital. He's alive, but Pepper, listen—Obadiah's dangerous. This guy isn't playing around."

"I know," she said, her grip tightening on the phone. "We're about to arrest him. Coulson's with me—we're in Section 16."

"Be careful," Rhodey warned. "You're dealing with someone who was willing to kill Tony Stark. Don't underestimate him."

"I won't," she said, hanging up.

As she put her phone away, she turned her attention back to the task at hand. The massive door to Section 16 loomed before her, and her heart pounded as she inserted the lock chip Tony had given her. The screen flickered, and she scrolled through the files, her breath catching when she saw the schematics for the Iron Monger suit.

"Section 16," she whispered. "There it is."

The door didn't budge.

"My key's not working," Pepper said, her voice rising with panic. "It's not opening the door."

Coulson stepped forward, pulling a small device from his pocket. "Take a step back," he said calmly.

Pepper hesitated, then moved aside as Coulson approached the door. The device beeped faintly, and after a moment, the lock disengaged with a soft click. The door slid open, revealing the full scope of Obadiah's secret project.

The Iron Monger suit stood in the center of the room, its massive frame illuminated by the flickering monitors. Pepper's blood ran cold as she took it in.

"Oh my God…" she breathed.

Coulson glanced at her. "Get what you need, Ms. Potts. Quickly."

Pepper moved toward the terminal, her fingers trembling as she began copying the files onto the lock chip. But before she could finish, a voice rang out from behind them.

"I was hoping to avoid this," Obadiah said, his tone calm but menacing.

Pepper froze, her blood turning to ice as she turned to see him standing in the doorway. His expression was eerily calm, but the darkness in his eyes betrayed his intentions.

"Stane," Coulson said firmly, stepping forward with his gun drawn. "Step back. You're under arrest."

Obadiah chuckled, shaking his head. "Coulson, always the optimist," he said. With a snap of his fingers, several armed guards appeared behind him, their weapons trained on the agents.

"You really should've stayed out of this, Pepper," Obadiah said, his voice cold and calculating. "I gave you every chance to walk away."

Meanwhile, Shallot Approaches

I flew as fast as I could toward Stark Industries, the faint glow of the building growing larger with every passing second.

"Hang on," I muttered, my ki flaring as I pushed myself harder.

In the distance, I saw the sleek tower rising into the night sky. My tail flicked behind me in agitation. 

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Author's note : Well if you enjoyed, consider reviewing and leaving some comments as well as power stones.