300 gems = 1 bonus chapter
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It had been some time since the last major test of the Fighter armor, and now Ivan Vanko's life revolved around three things: overseeing the assembly of the Steel Soldiers at Hammer Industries, perfecting the second-generation Fighter in his lab, and, when the work became too much, relaxing with a bottle of vodka in hand.
Tony Stark's craftsmanship was nothing short of exquisite—his creations were works of art, each detail meticulously refined. Ivan, on the other hand, was a craftsman of a different breed. His hands were calloused, his approach straightforward, and he took pride in constructing everything himself, piece by piece. For Ivan, true satisfaction always came from self-reliance and building from the ground up.
Unlike Tony, Ivan did not believe in tearing everything down to start anew. The first-generation Fighter was already a solid foundation, so he chose to upgrade it directly, refining and enhancing the existing framework. There was no need to overhaul the system; instead, he focused on stripping away unnecessary parts and amplifying the armor's true strengths.
"Remove the dross, keep the essence," Ivan muttered to himself as he worked, his fingers blackened by grease and scorched by heat.
The path he had chosen demanded the return of his signature weapon—the whip. The new materials he used were even harder than those in Tony's suits. Perhaps it was a Russian thing, Ivan thought, to love machines that were big, heavy, and built to last.
He wanted the second-generation Fighter to unleash even more devastating energy beams. Thanks to the dual energy modes provided by the magic crystal, he had more power than he knew what to do with. John's concept of the weapon box for the Steel Soldiers had also inspired him. Other than the basic jammers and flight systems, the fighter's internal arsenal was limited. So Ivan designed three massive, modular weapon boxes. These could be launched via satellite positioning and delivered to the armor in real time, each loaded with external weapon systems to boost its combat power on land, at sea, or in the air.
When John first heard this idea, he stared at Ivan and asked, "Have you ever watched Armor Warrior?"
Ivan just looked confused. "Armor Warrior? What's that? Some kind of movie?"
John shook his head. "Never mind. Just know that your satellite weapon drop is a little familiar."
With a smirk, John produced a magic crystal recovery rune. "This will let you recharge and store magic power, but it's not fast. It takes about a day to fully recover."
"So before the magic crystal is ready again, you'll need to use other energy sources to power the Fighter."
Ivan caught the three-colored crystal. John tossed it and turned it over in his hands. "Magic?" he muttered, marveling at the tiny object. There were no wires or circuits, yet it could autonomously recharge itself. The more Ivan studied it, the more magical it seemed.
The second-generation Fighter was slimmer than the original, its silhouette streamlined for speed and flexibility. Ivan had learned from Tony and Rhodey's mocking comments about the first version's clumsy movements. He reinforced the joints, increased the power, and improved the armor's agility. The dismantled weapons from the previous model were repurposed to create heavy firepower weapon boxes.
Three enormous metal cases, not yet launched into orbit, were being prepared for deployment—each one tailored for a different battlefield: sea, land, and air.
John recognized one of the weapons immediately. "So, which city are you planning to bomb with your ex-wife?"
He picked up the cigar-sized missile, the infamous "Ex-Wife" that Rhodes had once tried to use. Justin Hammer had bragged about its power, and, for once, he had not exaggerated. This missile was far more destructive than anything Tony had built into his own suits.
Ivan attached the missile to the air combat module, and John could not help but wonder if Ivan would one day fire it at Stark Tower from the sky. Only a Russian, he thought, would consider something so audacious.
But, in the coming war for New York, such a weapon might be just what they needed.
John slotted the Ex-Wife missile into the weapon box and said, "You'll need my approval to use this."
Ivan shrugged. "You're the boss. I'll follow your lead."
"Make me a set as well," John said, eyeing the three weapon boxes. "But I want a fortress."
"A fortress?" Ivan was caught off guard by the idea. "Why didn't I think of that?"
John grinned. "You're thinking of it now, but remember, it was my idea first." He saw the gleam in Ivan's eye and knew he was already planning how to use the new arsenal against Tony. "You've got enough weapon boxes to level half of New York as it is. Don't get carried away."
With the boss's word, Ivan reluctantly put aside his dreams of launching the weapon boxes at will. Together, they finalized the designs.
The second-generation Fighter was nearly complete—sleeker, faster, and even more brutal than before.
Ivan pressed his hand to the reactor on the armor's chest. The reactor opened, and a high-temperature, glowing magic crystal popped out. "That's the one flaw," Ivan muttered, searching the workbench for tweezers. He did not want to burn his hand again.
Finally, he found the tweezers, but when he turned around, he saw John casually pulling the magic crystal out with his bare fingers and inserting the recovery rune.
Ivan's jaw dropped. "Magic," he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. When in doubt, just use magic.
"Don't throw that away!" Ivan shouted as John nearly tossed the charged crystal aside. He rushed over, carefully picked up the crystal with tweezers, and opened the armor's arm compartment.
John peered inside. "Six reactors in one arm? No wonder you're going for the energy beam approach."
Ivan grinned, sliding the crystal into place and closing the arm. The chest of the Fighter opened, and Ivan climbed inside. The armor sealed around him, and he rose from the charging bay, feeling the surge of power.
"I can feel it!" Ivan shouted, his voice echoing through the lab.
He raised his palm and fired an energy beam that blasted a hole through the far wall. With a flick of his wrists, he unleashed electric whips, the air shimmering with heat. Flames burst from his feet as he sprinted across the floor, leaving scorched footprints in his wake.
He collided with a moving tank, stopping it dead in its tracks. With a single swing of his whip, he sliced the tank in two. The faceplate slid open, revealing Ivan's wild, childlike grin.
This, John thought, is a man's happiness—pure, destructive joy.
He watched the tank roll by, remembering it was a sample sent by the military for weapon box testing.
*****
Meanwhile, Tony Stark was deep in his own research, the pressure of Ivan's survival pushing him harder than ever. As a S.H.I.E.L.D. consultant, he bore the responsibility of protecting the world. He had also learned the truth about the feud between his father and Anton Vanko.
Even Tony could not say Ivan's thirst for revenge was unjustified. He knew his father had not acted honorably. What was meant to be a partnership for profit had ended with Howard Stark suddenly preaching about national duty and justice. The irony of an American arms dealer talking about world peace was not lost on anyone—least of all the countries in the Middle East, who would have laughed out loud at the notion.
For the sins of his father, Tony had no choice but to bear the consequences.
Ivan was a genius. Tony had recognized that the moment he saw Ivan build a reactor and attack him with electrified whips. He considered himself a genius too, his armor years ahead of its time. But Ivan had spent less than a week at Hammer Industries and had already turned Hammer's clunky suits into Steel Soldiers. His execution and creativity were on par with Tony's own.
Tony did not want to see Stark Industries destroyed, nor did he want to die at Ivan's hands. The only solution was to keep his armor evolving, always one step ahead.
And then there was John—a wild card, a magician whose powers could change everything. Who knew what John's magic might do to Ivan's armor?
Pepper Potts watched Tony work himself to exhaustion and felt a pang of concern for her boyfriend.
"Tony, why don't you take a break?" She asked softly, placing her hand on his.
He looked up, lost in thought. "Christmas is coming," Pepper reminded him.
"Christmas?" Tony blinked, as if waking from a dream. He realized he had been in the lab for far too long. Rubbing his temples, he felt the weight of responsibility pressing down on him.
Pepper stood and gently massaged his shoulders. "Sometimes, you don't have to do everything alone," she said with quiet affection. "Maybe you could ask for help."
Tony's gaze fell on the magic crystal in the black box on his desk. Pepper's words sparked an idea.
"You're right," he said suddenly. "Maybe it's time to talk to the person who started all this. After all, the game should be fair."
He picked up the magic crystal, marveling at how it could replace even palladium. As its developer, Tony knew John Wick was anything but ordinary.
*****
Back at Hammer Industries, Ivan was still perfecting the assembly of the Iron Soldiers and fine-tuning the second-generation Fighter. In the quiet of his lab, he poured himself another glass of vodka, savoring the burn as he watched the armor's systems come alive.
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