The world had barely started to heal.
New York City—a place synonymous with resilience—was a strange mix of hope and desolation. Five years after the Snap and mere months after the Blip, it was still trying to reclaim its vibrancy. Skyscrapers stood tall but scarred, their cracked facades a reminder of the battle fought to save humanity. The streets buzzed with life, but beneath the surface, there was a pervasive unease, a collective fear that it could all fall apart again.
Eric Steele didn't belong here. At least, that's what he told himself every time he walked these crowded streets. A former military engineer, he'd come to the city chasing whispers of a better future. Now, all he had to show for it was a dingy studio apartment in Queens and a knack for finding odd jobs that barely kept the lights on. Today, he was scrapping for parts in what used to be Stark Tower.
"Careful in there," warned a security guard stationed outside the perimeter. "That rubble's still unstable."
Eric offered a nod and a tight-lipped smile. He adjusted the strap of his toolkit and ducked under the caution tape. The remnants of the once-iconic tower loomed above him, a skeletal frame of its former glory. It had been repurposed and sold off long before Tony Stark's sacrifice, but when Thanos's forces rained hell upon the city, this place became ground zero again.
Most scavengers avoided the area. Eric wasn't like most people.
The deeper he ventured into the wreckage, the quieter the world became. His boots crunched against shattered glass and twisted metal, each step a reminder of how close humanity had come to annihilation. He scanned the rubble with a handheld scanner, a relic of his military days. It beeped sporadically, picking up faint traces of energy signatures.
"Come on, Stark, you had to leave something behind," Eric muttered, wiping sweat from his brow.
That's when the scanner went wild. The device emitted a high-pitched whine, its screen flashing with intensity. Eric frowned, tapping it a few times. It wasn't malfunctioning—whatever it was detecting, it was big.
Following the signal, he climbed over a pile of debris, his gloved hands gripping jagged edges of metal. On the other side, he found it: a sleek, partially buried case. Its edges glowed faintly with a blue hue, pulsing like a heartbeat. Eric's breath hitched. He'd seen tech like this before, in classified briefings during his time with the military. This wasn't just Stark tech—it was arc reactor technology.
"Jackpot," he whispered, reaching for the case.
The moment his fingers brushed the surface, the ground beneath him shifted. A low groan reverberated through the rubble as metal beams buckled and collapsed. Eric leapt back just as the floor gave way, sending the case tumbling into the darkness below.
"Damn it!" he cursed, watching his prize disappear. Without hesitation, he pulled a flashlight from his belt and aimed it into the abyss. A jagged hole led into what appeared to be an intact sublevel of the tower. Stark's tech was down there, waiting.
Against his better judgment, Eric descended. Using a rope from his pack, he lowered himself into the cavernous space. His boots hit solid ground, and he took a moment to steady himself. The air was damp and charged with an almost electric energy. He swung his flashlight around, illuminating a laboratory frozen in time.
Tables were strewn with half-finished projects, blueprints, and prototypes. The centerpiece of the room was a cylindrical containment unit, its surface etched with intricate designs. Inside, a glowing orb pulsed with the same blue light as the case above.
"No way," Eric breathed. He approached the containment unit, his heart pounding. This wasn't just any tech—this was something Stark had kept hidden, even from SHIELD.
As he examined the orb, the room's lighting flickered. A faint hum filled the air, growing louder with each passing second. Eric's instincts screamed at him to leave, but curiosity anchored him in place.
Then the orb spoke.
"Designation: Prototype Omega. Authorization required."
Eric froze. The voice was synthetic, but its tone carried a weight of authority.
"Uh, authorization?" he stammered.
"Unauthorized access detected," the orb replied. The hum reached a deafening pitch as the containment unit's panels began to retract. Eric took a step back, shielding his eyes as a burst of light filled the room.
When the light subsided, the orb hovered in the air, free of its constraints. It rotated slowly, scanning its surroundings before focusing on Eric.
"Human subject identified," it said. "Initiating synchronization process."
"Wait, what?" Eric shouted, but it was too late. The orb shot toward him, colliding with his chest. A surge of energy coursed through his body, knocking him to the ground. Pain seared through his veins, and his vision blurred. He could feel something embedding itself within him, rewriting his very being.
When he finally regained his senses, the lab was silent. The orb was gone, but Eric felt its presence—a strange warmth emanating from his chest. He unzipped his jacket and gasped. Embedded in his skin, just above his heart, was a faintly glowing arc reactor.
"What the hell?" he muttered, his hands trembling.
Before he could process what had happened, the room's monitors flickered to life. A familiar face appeared on the screens: Tony Stark.
"If you're seeing this," the recording began, "you've just done something incredibly stupid."
Eric stared, slack-jawed, as Stark's hologram continued.
"This tech wasn't meant for just anyone. If it's bonded to you, congratulations—you're either the luckiest person alive or the world's newest disaster. Either way, you've got a responsibility now. Don't screw it up."
The message ended abruptly, leaving Eric alone with the weight of Stark's words. He had come looking for scraps, but he had found something far more dangerous.
And the world would never be the same.