Chapter 74: Chapter 71: Vanko!
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Somewhere in the Suburbs.
A wooden American-style house stood quietly in the countryside.
Inside, the living room was slightly messy—scattered papers on the coffee table, an open bottle of whiskey half-empty.
A television was on, filling the room with the crackling energy of a live news broadcast. The male anchor's voice was hoarse with excitement, carrying the kind of urgency that demanded attention.
"…Rejoice, America! After Steve Rogers, we have our next superhero! That man is none other than Tony Stark—our very own Iron Man!…"
The owner of the house sat on the couch, legs crossed, one hand flipping through a newspaper while the other rested near his drink.
On the front page, an entire section was dedicated to a bold, eye-catching spread.
Half of the image displayed a sleek red-and-gold iron mask, shining under the studio lights. The other half showed the unmistakable face of Tony Stark, his expression sharp and confident.
At the bottom, printed in massive, black artistic letters—
"I'm Iron Man."
On the back of the newspaper, a bold headline read: "Stark Industries Stock Hits Consecutive Daily Limits!"
Sunlight streamed through the open door, casting a gentle warmth into the room. From the yard outside, the distant sound of children's laughter echoed through the air.
It was late autumn, yet this year, the chill wasn't as biting as usual.
In the yard, three or four young children, dressed in thin shirts and pants, huddled together. At the center of their circle was a small figure made of packed dirt—a crude humanoid shape with four legs and two heads.
They jumped around excitedly, shouting at the top of their lungs.
"Iron Man! Iron Man!"
A postman, dressed in a black jacket, stepped through the gate and into the yard. In one hand, he held a thin envelope, and in a gruff, booming voice, he called out:
"Ezekiel Stane! You've got mail!"
His rough voice instantly drowned out the children's cheers. Startled by the unfamiliar and imposing presence, the kids scattered like frightened birds, disappearing into the neighborhood.
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Moscow
Snow was falling heavily, covering the streets in a thick white blanket.
Pedestrians trudged through the icy pathways, each step a struggle against the winter's grip.
Off the main road, hidden behind piles of garbage and debris, was a narrow alley rarely visited by anyone. At the very end of this alley stood an old, run-down building.
Inside, the room was in complete disarray.
At the center of the dimly lit space was a simple, rickety bed. Lying on it was an elderly man, his body frail and withered, the scent of decay clinging to him like a heavy shroud.
Beside the bed sat a middle-aged man, his long, unkempt hair hanging loosely around his worn and weary face. He was wrapped in a tattered coat, barely providing any warmth against the cold that seeped through the cracked walls.
An ancient television, dating back to the previous century, sat near the bedside. Its flickering screen endlessly replayed the same monotonous news coverage—praising and glorifying Iron Man.
The old man's dull, lifeless eyes turned toward his son. His breath was weak, his voice laced with bitterness and regret.
"That should have been you…"
His name was Anton Vanko—once a brilliant scientist who had co-developed the Arc Reactor alongside Howard Stark.
But his fate had been cruel. Accused of misusing the technology for personal gain, he was exiled from Stark Industries. Branded a criminal, he was deported back to Russia on charges of espionage and later sentenced to rot in Siberian exile.
And now, decades later, while the son of his former partner basked in fame and fortune, he and his own son were left to decay in the filth of a forgotten alley, living among rats and insects.
Sitting beside the bed, Ivan Vanko gently placed a hand on his father's withered arm. His voice was calm but filled with quiet sorrow.
"Don't listen to their nonsense."
But the TV continued broadcasting Stark's name, Stark's legacy—every word slicing into Ivan's mind like a blade, filling him with a chaotic storm of emotions.
"I'm sorry… The only thing I can leave you is knowledge…"
The old man's voice was barely a whisper, his breath weak and fleeting. He struggled to say more, but in the very next moment, his body stilled. Life slipped away from him like a dying ember.
A single tear slid down Ivan Vanko's face. His hands trembled as he reached out, gently caressing the lifeless, weathered cheek of his father. Then, in a voice filled with agony, he let out a heartbreaking scream.
"Ah!"
"AH——!!!"
His cry echoed through the cold, dimly lit room, but no one was there to hear it.
….
By the time Tony Stark returned to his mansion, the sun had already begun to dip below the horizon.
There had been a lot to handle that day—coordinating repairs for the damage to his home, dodging persistent reporters eager for an exclusive interview, and most importantly, assuming full control over Stark Industries in the wake of Obadiah Stane's death.
As he stepped through the front door, he immediately noticed something was off.
The house was unnervingly quiet, carrying an air of unnatural stillness—like a jungle that had suddenly gone silent, warning of an unseen predator lurking nearby.
Tony frowned. "J.A.R.V.I.S.?"
"Welcome home, sir."
J.A.R.V.I.S.'s response came as usual, but the automated lights didn't turn on. The unease in Tony's gut deepened.
Standing just outside the living room, his gaze landed on a dark silhouette near the sofa. The figure stood motionless, facing the floor-to-ceiling glass wall, staring out at the ocean as the last traces of daylight faded into the deep blue of night.
There had been no warning from J.A.R.V.I.S. No alarm. No sign of forced entry.
As if… the system didn't even recognize this person as an intruder.
Then, in the vast emptiness of the room, a deep, weighted voice broke the silence.
"I am Iron Man? You really think…"
The figure scoffed, voice laced with amusement and something else—something unreadable.
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+15 chapters on patreon.
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Naruto(characters) x Fate Holy grail war on patreon.
….
If you want to read 15+ chapters ahead and unpublished fanfics you can check out my patreon or just take a visit.
[P].[A].[T].[R].[E].[O].[N]
http://patreon.com/Kazuma_trash