Professor X has an uncanny ability to detect mutants due to the unique structure of their brainwaves, which differ from those of ordinary humans.
With the aid of Cerebro, a powerful brainwave amplifier, he can locate mutants across the globe.
However, this ability has its limits when it comes to tracking ordinary humans.
Mutants are vastly outnumbered, making it unrealistic to sift through billions of human brainwaves.
More importantly, Professor X has never even met Tony Stark.
He has no reference for Tony's brain patterns, meaning all he could do is attempt a blind search in the vast Middle East—a task so monumental it would be laughable.
"Ha! If you tell Professor X to do that, he might just leap out of his wheelchair and slap you upside the head," Ethan chuckled.
"Come on, old man, He's Professor X! You think he's some kind of library search engine?"
Hearing this, Nick Fury sighed. He had expected this answer, but it still frustrated him.
If Professor X had somehow already found Tony, Fury might have had to reconsider the level of threat the telepath posed.
"Ethan, you can find Mystique, right?" Fury asked, shifting gears.
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"Don't play dumb. Mystique infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D. last week just to meet with you. You expect me to believe you don't have a way to contact her?" Fury's expression remained unreadable.
Ethan smirked. "Why are you looking for Mystique? You lost a fight with her and want revenge? Even though I don't exactly get along with her, betraying her is not an option. Not even for a raise."
"You think too much," Fury replied, shaking his head. "Her sneaking in only proved S.H.I.E.L.D.'s security isn't perfect.
But I don't need to deal with that right now. What I need is for her to disguise herself as Tony."
Ethan frowned. "And what's the point of that?"
Fury leaned back, a calculating smile forming. "Oh, it's very meaningful."
The sudden 'return' of Tony Stark would immediately stabilize Stark Industries, ensuring their projects stayed on track.
That included S.H.I.E.L.D.'s aerospace carrier, which was reliant on Stark technology.
More importantly, it would serve as bait. Tony's disappearance wasn't random. Either terrorists targeted him, or someone leaked his whereabouts.
Putting a fake Tony back in play would force their enemies to react. And when they did, S.H.I.E.L.D. would be watching.
"Even if I can reach Mystique, why would she agree?" Ethan questioned.
"She won't trust me," Fury admitted. "But she trusts Magneto. And she trusts you." His gaze turned sharp.
It was as if he were saying: 'Come on, kid. You think I don't know the history between Professor X and Magneto? You think I don't know how much they value you?'
Ethan sighed, rubbing his temple. "Fine. But you know, nothing's free." He held out his hand and rubbed his thumb and index finger,
Fury blinked. "What?"
"Money. First of all, it's about principles. Second, do you expect me to hire someone without spending anything?"
Fury scoffed. "Does Mystique look like she's hurting for cash?"
"How about this—tell her that, in exchange, all her cases with S.H.I.E.L.D. get wiped clean. As long as she stays out of trouble, we won't pursue her."
Ethan's eyes widened. "Wait, you can do that? That wasn't on the table before!"
"Where there's a will, there's a way," Fury smirked.
"Well, I still need something for my trouble." Ethan raised a single finger.
"One hundred thousand?!" Fury nearly flipped the table. "Are you out of your mind?!"
Fury's initial outrage faded as he studied Ethan. This kid had been an orphan just a month ago.
He wasn't some overinflated egomaniac. He didn't even know how to spend that kind of money. Fury took a deep breath.
"Wait… Did I misunderstand something?"
Before he could react, Ethan's eyes lit up like he had just spotted a gold mine.
"Well, since you're so generous, I'll be kind and settle for ten thousand," Ethan declared, smacking the table.
"Not a chance!" Fury shot back.
What followed was a brutal round of haggling.
In the end, Ethan walked away with a signed invoice for a sum that left Fury feeling utterly drained.
As Fury slumped into his chair, exhausted, his gaze landed on a file featuring Ethan's profile. Frustrated, he flung it across the room.
"Is this kid money-hungry or what? What does he even need all that cash for?" Fury grumbled.
"Actually, sir," Coulson spoke up, stepping forward for the first time. "Ethan really does need the money."
Fury frowned. "Explain."
"Since we've been monitoring his account, I noticed something. The advance payment he received last time? He spent it on a girl's medical bills."
Fury's frown deepened. "But she's in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s care. Her treatment should be free."
"Only for agents," Coulson clarified. "Her initial surgery was covered as part of mission expenses, but she still has to pay for hospitalization."
Fury exhaled. "And the rest of the money?"
"He anonymously donated it to the orphanage he grew up in. It was damaged during a recent attack and was in dire need of repairs.
Ethan probably figured S.H.I.E.L.D.'s money was the cleanest income he could get."
Fury fell silent, staring at the papers on his desk. After a moment, he picked up the discarded file himself.
"Coulson," he said suddenly.
"Yes, sir?"
"Reclassify the girl's injury as a mission-related accident. According to protocol, that means her medical expenses should be fully covered."
Coulson smiled slightly before turning around. "On it."
...
Calling Mystique was an easy task for Ethan.
Although Mystique didn't particularly like him, her loyalty to Magneto was absolute.
So, when she heard Ethan's request, she frowned but ultimately agreed.
Magneto had already given his orders, and she wasn't about to disobey.
With Fury's arrangements, Mystique took on the appearance of Tony Stark.
The goal wasn't a grand press conference but a private meeting with key shareholders.
Even though it was a short appearance, the effect was enough.
Fury knew that a carefully planted falsehood would make the unseen forces more restless.
After that, Ethan chose to step back from the matter. Something else had captured his attention entirely.
"What? You've awakened as a mutant?" Ethan stared in disbelief at the girl lying on the hospital bed.
"I think so? I don't really know what's going on," Katie responded, stretching her hand towards the bedside cabinet.
Right before Ethan's eyes, her hand phased straight through it.
"You really did awaken." Ethan reached out, grabbing her hand.
At first, it felt solid—but in the next moment, it slipped through his fingers like a ghostly projection.
The shock lasted only a moment before he composed himself.
The awakening of a mutant's power followed no rules.
Some endured hellish experiments, barely surviving before manifesting their abilities, while others could awaken with something as simple as a sneeze or a nap.
"This power… It's like Shadowkat's," Ethan muttered after a moment of silence.
"Shadowkat? What's that? A superhero name? Sounds kind of cool," Katie said, tilting her head.
"If you like it, then it's yours. Every mutant has a codename based on their ability. Some even consider it their true name," Ethan explained, his gaze complicated.
He knew the name Shadowkat belonged to someone named Kitty, but never expected that this Katie would be her.
The timeline wasn't aligning with the story he remembered.
But ever since the Liberty Island incident, he had long abandoned the idea of relying too much on the original plot.
A butterfly flapping its wings could cause a tornado.
Unlike the MCU that he remembered, only the Avengers exist, and in a world where the X-Men and Avengers coexisted, deviations like this were inevitable.
"Then I'll take it! Shadowkat—I like the sound of that." Katie grinned.
Just as she was about to say something else, she suddenly flinched and pulled her hand back like she had been shocked.
"What's wrong?" Ethan asked, noticing his own powers had briefly activated.
"Sorry, my ability triggered on its own. I can't control it yet. Are you okay?"
"I should be the one apologizing. I shouldn't have touched you when I can't control my own power either. Good thing you're not affected by mine, or I'd be blaming myself for life." He pulled back the bedsheet, revealing deep, finger-shaped burn holes underneath.
"Did you do this while testing your powers?" Ethan looked at Katie in shock.
His mind reeled.
The ability to phase through objects was already impressive, but what really made him wary was the potential behind it.
If she phased through objects and then rematerialized, she could destroy anything in her path.
A space-based ability like that was no joke.
If his own reflexive defense hadn't instinctively activated and repelled her, his hand might've been severed right then and there.
"Every new mutant goes through this. Don't stress about it. It's like how birds naturally learn to fly. Give it time, and you'll master it," Ethan reassured her.
He knew her abilities had far greater potential.
If she kept developing, she might even tap into the realm of space-time manipulation like she did in the movies.
"Then… can I go to that mutant academy?" Katie asked hopefully.
"Of course. Professor X and the others are good people. They'll welcome you. With their experience, you'll learn to control your power in no time," Ethan replied earnestly.
And so, he began explaining everything he knew about Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters to her.
...
At a military base on the outskirts of New York, an Air Force transport plane touched down.
A visibly exhausted man, supported by a fellow officer, slowly disembarked.
Tony Stark gazed at his surroundings, his eyes filled with confusion.
Everything felt surreal, like he had just awakened from a long nightmare.
But the cold, metal implant in his chest was a grim reminder that it was all too real.
His time in captivity had changed him.
It wasn't just his body that had suffered—his entire worldview had been altered.
He was still Tony Stark, but he would never be the same man he was before.
As he stood there lost in thought, a familiar blonde woman approached, her eyes slightly red.
Seeing his longtime assistant, Pepper Potts, stirred something deep inside him.
The emotions he had suppressed for months came rushing back.
"Your eyes are red. You cried for your missing boss?" Despite all the thoughts running through his mind, that was what slipped out.
His tone was different now—less arrogant, less flamboyant. More… real.
"Tears of joy. I didn't want to lose my job," Pepper replied, dabbing the corners of her eyes, her voice laced with mock indignation.
"Well then, your vacation is over." Tony smirked, stepping into the car.
"Hospital first," Pepper instructed the driver as she got in after him.
"I don't want to go to the hospital."
"Tony, you have to—"
"No, I don't."
Tony glanced at her, his expression unreadable.
"I've been locked up for nearly three months. Right now, there are only two things I want. One—a cheeseburger. And two—"
"No!" Pepper cut him off immediately.
She knew Tony too well.
If he was back to his old ways, he was probably planning another wild party to celebrate.
But this time, she was wrong.
"I want to hold a press conference. Immediately." His voice was firm.
Thirty minutes later, Tony arrived at the Stark Industries press conference.
As soon as he stepped out of the car, a bald man with a white beard approached him—Obadiah Stane, Stark Industries' second-in-command and his father's old business partner.
"Tony, I thought you were going to the hospital," Obadiah said, patting Tony's shoulder.
"I'm fine," Tony replied, taking the cheeseburger his assistant handed him before striding into the press conference.
As he walked in, he saw the crowd of reporters eagerly awaiting a statement.
Ignoring protocol, he casually sat on the steps, unwrapping his burger.
"Can everyone sit down? That way, we can see each other better, and I can be less formal."
The reporters hesitated before complying.
Tony Stark was infamous for his eccentric behavior—this was just another one of his quirks.
Tony took a deep breath. "It's good to see you all," he said, glancing at Obadiah.
"I never got to say goodbye to my father. There's questions that I would have asked him.
I would have asked him how he felt about what this company did. If he was conflicted, if he ever had doubts?" His voice carried a mix of bitterness and regret.
"Or maybe he was every inch the man we all remember from the newsreels. I saw young Americans killed by the very weapons I created to defend them and protect them."
He paused, memories of his time in captivity flashing through his mind—terrorists wielding Stark weapons, innocent civilians caught in the crossfire, and the doctor who sacrificed himself to help him escape.
"And I saw that I had become part of a system that is comfortable with zero accountability."
"Mr. Stark!" Tony looked at the one who broked him out of stupor.
"...Hey, Ben."
"What happened over there?"
His hands clenched.
The images burned into his mind, fueling his next words.
"I had my eyes opened." he muttered, staring at an empty air.
He looked back again at the news reporters and composed himself.
"I came to realize that I have more to offer this world than just making things that blow up. And that is why, effective immediately, I am shutting down the weapons manufacturing division of Stark International—"
At Stark's statement, numerous flickers of light erupted inside the conference room as dozens of reporters simultaneously fired their camera shots.
They stood up, intending to rush towards Tony, but before they could, a swarm of man in suits blocked them.
"—until such a time as I can decide what the future of the company will be. What direction it should take, one that I'm comfortable with and is consistent with the highest good for this country, as well." With that, Tony Stark left the stage, leaving the mess he left behind.
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