Ivan Vanko woke up in a dimly lit warehouse, his head pounding. The last thing he remembered was electricity sparking through his whips—only for Stark to absorb it like it was nothing.
And now, he was here.
Across from him, sitting far too comfortably, was Tony Stark.
Vanko's hands flexed instinctively, reaching for a weapon that wasn't there.
"Easy, Ivan," Tony said, lazily waving a hand. "If I wanted to put you in a body bag, you wouldn't have woken up at all."
Vanko exhaled slowly. He hated that Stark was right.
Tony leaned back in his chair, studying him. "So, let's start with the obvious. You built an arc reactor. Impressive."
Vanko said nothing.
Tony smirked. "I mean, it's not my level of impressive, but hey, points for effort."
Vanko's hands curled into fists. "You mock me?"
"Nah, just establishing the facts," Tony said. "You took something that was never meant to be used this way and turned it into a revenge plot. Bold move. Stupid, but bold."
Vanko's lip curled. "You stole my father's work."
Tony's smirk faded. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
"No. Your father and my father built it together," Tony said, voice quieter now. "I won't deny that Howard treated him like crap. That part's real. But this? You? Thinking you can kill me to settle the score? That's not justice. That's just you being pissed off."
Vanko's expression darkened. "You do not understand."
Tony sighed, rubbing his temple. "You know, I probably don't. I grew up in mansions, you grew up in exile—whole different worlds. But let me tell you what I do understand."
He leaned in, his voice dropping.
"I understand you're smart. You built something incredible, even with limited resources. And that makes you a problem."
Vanko's eyes narrowed. "You plan to kill me, then?"
Tony chuckled. "See, that's the difference between you and me. You spent your life thinking power is about who you destroy." He gestured at himself. "I build. And I'm giving you a choice."
Vanko remained silent, but Tony could tell he was listening.
"You work for me. I'll give you a lab, resources, actual funding," Tony continued. "You don't have to be some guy making bootleg arc reactors in a basement. You could be better."
Vanko let out a humorless chuckle. "And become your dog? No."
Tony sighed, standing up. "Yeah. Figured you'd say that."
He stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders. "Look, I'm not naïve. I know letting you walk out of here is a risk. But I don't kill people, and I don't throw them in holes to rot."
Vanko scowled. "You think you can just let me go?"
Tony grinned. "Oh, absolutely. Because the second you step outside, you'll realize something."
Vanko's expression barely changed, but Tony could see the tension in his posture.
"You won't see them," Tony continued, "but they'll see you. Every move you make? Tracked. Every deal you try to cut? Logged. You try to sell what you know to someone dangerous? Boom—gone."
Vanko stiffened.
Tony patted him on the shoulder. "So go ahead. Walk free. Just remember—this wasn't personal for me. But if you make it personal, you won't like what happens next."
With that, Tony turned and walked out, leaving Vanko alone with his thoughts.
For the first time in his life, Ivan Vanko felt truly trapped.
But he refused to be controlled. He got up with renewed vigor and fire in his eyes.
---
Justin Hammer had once celebrated Tony Stark's abrupt departure from the weapons industry. The moment Stark Industries shut down its arms division, military contracts poured into Hammer Industries like a flood.
For the first time in his life, Hammer wasn't playing second fiddle. No more Stark overshadowing him, no more clients scoffing at his designs, no more frustrating Pentagon meetings where generals compared every prototype to Stark's masterpieces.
But the high didn't last.
The cracks began to show almost immediately. His missile guidance systems weren't as accurate as advertised. His drones suffered from catastrophic software failures. His advanced weaponry was flashy but unreliable, and the military. now free to diversify its suppliers, was no longer forced to rely on Hammer Industries alone.
Then came the media disasters.
A botched live demo had seen one of his prized defense systems malfunction and explode during a military presentation. A foreign buyer, unimpressed with Hammer's tech, had chosen a competing firm. And worst of all, rumors spread that the Pentagon was quietly reconsidering its long-term reliance on Hammer Industries.
Hammer knew he needed a game-changer, and fast.
That's when Ivan Vanko came knocking on his doors.
Hammer barely contained his excitement as he watched the Russian engineer lay out his designs. An independent, miniaturized arc reactor.
"You're telling me." Hammer said, leaning forward in his chair, "That you cracked Stark's greatest invention? An industrial-grade Arc Reactor with a size of tennis ball?"
Vanko smirked. "Better. Stark used it like a fool. I use it for destruction." It's been a few days since Tony warned him but he noticed nothing following or monitoring him. He took this as Tony's bluff and went to find his old rival.
He pulled up schematics for advanced weaponry powered by arc reactors, a new era of military hardware.
Hammer's mind raced. This was exactly what he needed. No, this was more than he had hoped for. With Vanko's technology, he wouldn't just compete with Stark Industries, he'd surpass it. Although the Stark Industries already left the field of making weapons, it was still undeniable that it left a huge mark that no one has filled yet. But with this new project, he will finally replace the Starks in weapon-making.
"This…" Hammer exhaled, shaking his head in disbelief. "This is genius. You're a genius."
Vanko grinned but said nothing.
Hammer stood up, already envisioning the possibilities. The Pentagon would come crawling back, foreign governments would throw money at him, and Stark Industries would be nothing more than a relic of the past.
"All right, Ivan. You've got yourself a deal. You can stay here, the security in this place is topnotch, not even FBI or CIA can infiltrate this place. We can discuss the financial matters later, I still have a few calls to make." Hammer said confidently, extending a hand.
Vanko took it. But neither of them knew they had just signed his own death warrant.
That night, in a private suite within Hammer Industries, Vanko poured himself a drink, satisfied with the deal. The fool had taken the bait so easily.
He never noticed the shadow in the hallway. Never heard the subtle shift of movement.
When the power in his room flickered once and then stabilized, he finally frowned.
A second later, the lights cut out entirely.
Vanko stood, grabbing a pistol from the desk. "Кто там? (Who's there?)"
Silence.
A gust of air, unnatural and wrong, brushed against his neck.
The gun was out of his hand before he could fire.
His breath hitched. His body froze.
In his final moments, he realized something terrifying.
This wasn't Stark, this wasn't Hammer. This was something else entirely.
And then there was nothing.
The news came the next morning.
Justin Hammer stared at his phone, the blood draining from his face.
Ivan Vanko was dead. No signs of forced entry. No gunshots, no struggle. The cameras in his suite had mysteriously failed.
The police found him sitting in his chair, a single bullet hole in his forehead.
It didn't make sense.
Hammer Industries had dozens of enemies, corporate rivals, foreign operatives, even disgruntled investors. But something about this felt… deliberate. Too clean.
"Was it Stark? No. Tony had been out of the game for too long." Hammer racked his brain to think of anyone who could possibly do this. "Was it FBI? Nah, they won't stop a trade that can strengthen their force. No matter what happens, I'm still a government contractor."
For the first time in his life, Justin Hammer felt genuine fear.
Vanko had been valuable. Vanko had been important.
And yet, whoever was behind this erased him like he was nothing.
Slowly, Hammer exhaled. He deleted Vanko's files from his computer. Shut down the project. Burned every connection he had to the Russian.
He wanted no part of this.
Tony Stark wasn't in the weapons business anymore. That was supposed to mean the game had changed.
But if Vanko's death was any indication…
Maybe Stark's absence had only made the game deadlier.
---