Tony sat alone in the Stark Industries orbital station, the vast expanse of space stretching infinitely beyond the panoramic windows. The stars were cold, distant—yet something in their darkness pressed heavily against his thoughts.
On his desk, the decrypted message glowed: "This is only the beginning." The words repeated like a mantra, echoing through the silence of the room.
His fingers traced the patterns of the code, searching for a clue—anything.
Suddenly, the station's lights flickered, shadows dancing ominously on the walls. The hum of machinery shifted—a subtle vibration, like a heartbeat growing louder.
"Friday, status report," Tony commanded, voice taut.
"All systems nominal, sir. However, I detect an unauthorized signal pinging in the nearby sector. It's encrypted, unlike anything in our database."
Tony's eyes narrowed, his mind racing. The signal pulsed—almost alive—like a whisper from the void.
Before he could react, the station's alarms blared—a deep, resonant tone that shook the steel walls.
On the main screen, a figure emerged from the darkness—a silhouette clad in ancient armor, eyes glowing with cold intelligence.
"Tony Stark," the figure intoned, voice echoing with menace. "Your war is far from over."
A surge of adrenaline flooded Tony's veins. The shadow wasn't just watching—it was coming for him.