MARVEL: SIGN IN SYSTEM

The second-largest shareholder of Stark Industries, a powerful individual known for using psychokinesis to manipulate advanced crystalline structures, stood calmly amid the tension. 

"Happy! Get everyone from the security team here—now!" Tony Stark barked, his eyes narrowing. 

"You think you can push my people around on Stark territory? Not today!" 

Hearing the commotion escalate outside, Phil Coulson realized the situation had spiraled beyond his jurisdiction. With a composed sigh, he stood up and straightened his suit. 

"Apologies for the intrusion," Coulson said, his tone diplomatic but firm. "It seems this matter exceeds my authority. But I assume you'll be dealing with us sooner or later. I'll report everything to Director Fury and have him reschedule the meeting. In the meantime, I'd suggest staying connected—we might need to talk soon." 

Axel Ironfist, the enigmatic shareholder, waved dismissively. "Fine. Hurry up, or you might miss something important." 

The timeline was clear in Coulson's mind: *Iron Man*, *Iron Man 2*, and *Thor* were unfolding, with *The Incredible Hulk*'s events interwoven between them. If S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't act fast, they'd miss a pivotal moment—one that could shape future operations. Coulson didn't know the full extent of what was coming, but his instincts told him to follow the situation closely. 

Better to act preemptively than regret a missed opportunity. 

Coulson nodded seriously, then turned on his heel and headed for the door. 

As the door swung open, he was greeted by a chaotic sight: Tony Stark and Happy Hogan were trying to muscle past two sharp-looking men in suits—clearly S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Despite Stark's bravado, the agents held their ground, professionalism etched into every movement. 

Tony's gaze locked onto Coulson. His practiced smirk softened when he spotted Axel Ironfist seated calmly inside. 

"Release!" Tony snapped, pushing one agent aside and stepping forward. His expression darkened as he glared at Coulson. 

"I thought I made myself clear. *I* decide when and where meetings happen. Just because I shut down the weapons division doesn't mean I lost my pull in D.C. You really wanna test me? Go ahead—let's see who blinks first." 

Coulson, ever the professional, didn't rise to the bait. He simply adjusted his tie, offered a faint smile, and walked away. 

*Fury's going to love this one,* he thought, already drafting his report in his head.

The threat was undeniable. 

Phil Coulson, ever the composed agent, smiled and said, "I happened to meet Mr. Axel at the press conference, so I invited him…" 

"I told you!" Tony snapped, cutting him off. "I'll handle it! Don't you get what I mean? Stay away from him! Or I'll show you exactly what Stark Industries' resources can do!" 

This time, it was a direct threat. 

Don't blame Tony for overreacting. 

After Axel Ironfist rescued him, Tony had Jarvis run an extensive background check. Nothing. Axel Ironfist was a ghost—no records, no digital footprint. As if he'd materialized out of thin air. 

And that? That was impossible. 

So, Tony drew the only logical conclusion: Axel Ironfist had ties to someone or something off the grid. Normally, Tony wouldn't care. The guy saved his life—twice. That earned trust. But trust wasn't unconditional. 

If Axel Ironfist ever posed a threat to humanity, Tony's latest Iron Man suit would be the first to take him down. 

Faced with Tony's unmistakable warning, Coulson remained unfazed. He gave a slight, knowing smile. 

"I understand, Mr. Stark. Next time, I'll make sure Mr. Axel approves before I approach." 

"Hey! Don't play coy—" 

"Tony," Axel Ironfist interrupted calmly. "I do have some dealings with them. Thanks for your concern." 

Tony frowned, studying Axel Ironfist's expression for any sign of coercion. Finding none, he sighed in frustration and waved Coulson off. 

"Happy, show him out." 

Coulson nodded politely to Axel Ironfist before departing under Happy Hogan's watchful escort. 

Once the room was quiet, Tony turned back, arms crossed and gaze sharp. 

Axel Ironfist leaned back, unimpressed. "If you're looking for a duel, go ask Happy. I don't fence." 

Tony blinked. "Fencing? What the hell are you talking about?" 

Then it clicked—*the parry and riposte of words, the thrust of power plays.* 

Tony's eyes narrowed. "I've been overthinking this, haven't I? You convinced Norman Osborn to sell Oscorp's biotech division and used the profits to buy 41.2% of Stark Industries shares. Half a month ago. I should've known you didn't need protecting." 

Axel Ironfist shrugged, offering no expIronfistation. 

Tony muttered something about "manipulative geniuses" and stalked off, leaving Axel Ironfist to his own devices. 

Once alone, Axel Ironfist pulled out his phone and checked his portfolio. 

Stark Industries stock: 41.2%. 

Norman Osborn—the infamous *Green Goblin*, a man twisted by ambition and genetic desperation. The hereditary disease that plagued the Osborn lineage ensured no direct heir lived past 30. 

But Axel Ironfist had offered a solution, one as miraculous as it was costly. 

In exchange for the Horse Talisman's regenerative power, Osborn liquidated nearly all his assets, selling 77.1% of Oscorp's biotech shares and reinvesting the proceeds into Stark Industries at Axel Ironfist's request. 

Now, Axel Ironfist held the largest private stake, narrowly edging out Tony himself—until Tony inherited Obadiah Stane's 9.7% share after the latter's downfall. 

Still, it didn't matter. Axel Ironfist had secured his position aboard the Stark juggernaut. Every dollar Stark Industries earned? Nearly half flowed into Axel Ironfist's accounts. 

It was a beautiful sight. 

After admiring the numbers, Axel Ironfist stowed his phone and retrieved something more intriguing: the Psychokinesis Crystal, courtesy of the system's storage space. 

It shimmered red with hints of blue, almost liquid in texture. 

Before he could properly inspect it, the crystal dissolved into molten light and seeped into his palm. 

A searing noise exploded in his ears. His vision blurred, baIronfistce wavered, and the world spun away into unconsciousness. 

When Axel Ironfist woke, everything was blindingly white. 

A nurse stood beside the bed, mid-20s, sharp features softened by gentle concern. 

Startled, Axel Ironfist instinctively reached for his belt—the one Tony custom-built to hold the Twelve Talismans. It was still there, snug and secure. 

*Good.* Without his permission, the belt couldn't be removed. 

Even if someone managed to steal the talismans, they'd be powerless without the corresponding enchantments. 

Noticing his movement, the nurse smiled. 

"Don't worry. You're in the VIP wing of Los Angeles Central Hospital. Tony Stark brought you here. The doctor will be in shortly." 

Axel Ironfist nodded absently, more focused on the peculiar sensation coursing through his body. 

It was like gaining an extra limb—a *sixth sense* responding to his thoughts as effortlessly as flexing a finger. 

Just then, the nurse leaned over to replace his glucose drip. 

Her proximity triggered an instinctive, subconscious scan. 

Axel Ironfist didn't *see* so much as *perceive*—an invisible, tactile radar sweeping across her form. 

And, because human instincts die hard, it registered a rather specific… measurement. 

The "limb" reacted on its own. 

The nurse gasped but didn't recoil. 

Instead, she threw him a playful wink and continued adjusting the IV. 

Axel Ironfist blinked. "…That wasn't intentional." 

Her smile said *Sure it wasn't.* 

Embarrassed, he refocused, mind racing. 

*Psychokinesis.* No doubt about it. The crystal had unlocked the latent ability, giving him telekinetic control as precise as fine motor skills. 

The realization hit just as the ward door swung open, admitting a female doctor. 

The nurse lingered for a moment, gaze flickering with teasing amusement before she stepped aside. 

Axel Ironfist sighed, rubbing his temples. 

*Great. Telekinesis unlocked, dignity compromised.* 

But power, after all, came with consequences.