"Tony Stark, I want to talk to you about weapons."
In the spacious, dimly lit living room of his seaside villa in California, Tony Stark had just removed his Mark II suit and was about to pour himself a drink at the bar to keep working.
Suddenly, a low voice came from the direction of the sofa.
"Who?"
In that instant, Tony Stark felt as if he were back in the cave in the Middle East. Every muscle in his body tensed, and his slightly drowsy mind snapped awake.
He looked toward the sofa and saw a faint silhouette blending into the shadows.
Cautiously, Tony slowly moved one hand beneath the bar, where an emergency button was hidden.
If pressed, a painting on the living room wall would reveal a firing port, and a miniature automatic machine gun produced by Stark Industries would lock onto the intruder with precision.
"Who are you? Batman?"
Tony Stark strained his eyes to adjust to the dim light of the living room, but he didn't see the sharp, pointed ears rumored to belong to Batman.
"I'm not Batman." The man in the shadows raised a finger and wagged it. "But if you know who Batman is or where he is, you can tell me."
As he spoke, the man stood up from the sofa and slowly walked over to Tony Stark, standing across the bar from him.
He was taller than Tony, more muscular. Even his trench coat couldn't hide the powerful build beneath.
His temples were graying, one eye covered by a patch. His weathered face was etched with deep, knife-like wrinkles. Standing before Tony Stark, he exuded authority without even trying.
Cold sweat trickled down Tony Stark's spine. The hand hidden beneath the bar had pressed the emergency button dozens of times, but the villa's security system hadn't responded at all.
As a former arms dealer and weapons expert, Tony Stark was obsessive about his home's security. It had a full suite of surveillance, alarms, and early warnings. The entire villa had been secretly modified to launch attacks from any angle at a moment's notice.
But the alarm hadn't sounded. His guns hadn't fired when the button was pressed.
"Tony, put away your little defense system." The one-eyed man spoke slowly. "I'm Nick Fury. You've heard my name."
"Whew…" Tony let out a breath. He knew he was safe now.
He'd heard the name. He knew the man was the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. Stark Industries had even collaborated with S.H.I.E.L.D.
After Batman hacked S.H.I.E.L.D.'s network, Nick Fury had sent Agent Coulson to Tony Stark for help. Tony had then connected Peter Parker to design the firewall.
Danger averted, Tony resumed pouring his drink—and poured one for Nick Fury too.
"If it's not urgent, I suggest you make an appointment with my assistant, Pepper, tomorrow. I'll schedule a time to discuss it."
Nick Fury took the glass without hesitation and downed it in one gulp.
"The drink's not strong enough."
Tony sipped his whiskey and studied Nick Fury.
"As I said earlier, I'm here to talk about weapons." Nick Fury continued, "You announced you're no longer making weapons, but right now, S.H.I.E.L.D. desperately needs Stark Industries to keep supplying high-end weaponry."
"For Stark Industries, publicly claiming a pivot while secretly supplying S.H.I.E.L.D. shouldn't be hard."
Tony gripped his glass tightly. He'd never forget the moment that missile bearing the Stark Industries logo exploded in front of him—those one or two seconds of pure dread.
Without hesitation, Tony shot back coldly:
"Don't even think about it, Director Fury. Stark Industries is done making weapons."
On the surface, Director Nick Fury seemed rugged, but as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s leader, he prepared for everything. Even Tony Stark's refusal was within his calculations.
Fury's expression didn't change. He pulled a few photos from his pocket, placed them on the bar, and gently pushed them toward Tony.
"Then you'd better explain this."
Tony knew the object in the photos all too well: his Jericho missile.
After returning from the Middle East and shutting down the weapons division, Stark Industries had stopped producing them. But pre-produced Jericho missiles still sat in storage.
Now, in the photos, the missiles were outdoors, surrounded by smoke-billowing ruins.
Clearly, even with the weapons division closed, Stark Industries' arms were leaking out through some mysterious channel—right under his nose.
"Where is this?" Tony took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm.
"Sokovia, Tony." Nick Fury said, watching Tony's reaction with his one eye. "If your weapons division is really shut down, why are these there?"
"This wasn't me. Someone's secretly selling off Stark Industries' stockpiled arms. I'll handle it." Tony's voice was ice. "I won't agree to restart the weapons division. Weapons don't solve problems—they make them worse."
Nick Fury gave a cold laugh. He pulled out a cigar, gestured to Tony, and after Tony handed him a cutter, lit it with a snap. A plume of white smoke billowed from his mouth.
"Cut the crap, Tony."
"You have no idea what's lurking in this world."
This time, Fury didn't pull out anything else. Instead, he pressed a button.
The projector in the living room flickered to life, displaying images: the Green Goblin soaring through the sky, the Lizard rampaging at Oscorp, Doctor Octopus battling thirty-one officers in the sewers, and the Hulk.
Tony stared at the screens as Nick Fury continued:
"You think I'm showing you these?"
"No."
"According to my intel, these four appeared in different parts of New York within a month—then vanished just as fast."
"Batman dealt with them in New York with terrifying efficiency. But the problem is, S.H.I.E.L.D. can't find any trace of them afterward."
"No hospital records. No detention facilities. They just… disappeared."
"A lunatic in a bat suit is playing God in our city. He's made four superhuman threats capable of causing chaos vanish without a trace."
"Let me be blunt, Tony Stark: 'Batman' is now at the highest threat level in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database."
"Our current weapons and surveillance systems are woefully inadequate. Agent Coulson has been in New York for nearly half a month and still has nothing on Batman."
"…That's why I need Stark Industries to keep supplying S.H.I.E.L.D. with weapons. Stronger ones than before."
Tony listened quietly as Nick Fury laid out his reasons, then drained his whiskey in one gulp.
"No."