Reborn as the God-Emperor in Marvel

"Wait a second, I know you! You were at the EU Young Scientists Competition with that chemical analyzer!" Tony Stark's eyes widened behind his helmet. "Is he another one of your agents? Or did S.H.I.E.L.D. recruit you for your talents? And what's with those clothes? You look like a wizard! JARVIS, pull up his profile."

"Sir, Solomon Damonet, born December 25, 1995, currently enrolled at Eton College…"

"You probably don't have the clearance for this, Stark. Public intel won't tell you the full story." Nick Fury couldn't help but feel a bit smug. Knowing secrets that others didn't always gave him a sense of superiority, something he hadn't felt much since meeting Solomon. Now that Stark had walked into the conversation, asking the very questions Fury hoped for, he wasn't going to miss the chance to play the mysterious leader role.

Being an enigma was truly enjoyable.

Tony Stark glanced at Solomon, who was sitting nearby, texting away, and gave a disapproving grunt but refrained from asking more. However, in his mind, Stark had already made up his mind to investigate S.H.I.E.L.D. thoroughly. It was bad enough that they had planted Natasha Romanoff as a spy right under his nose. After several stock transfers, Stark Industries was now entirely his, and he needed to know just how many spies S.H.I.E.L.D. had planted around him. Was every stranger in his life an undercover agent?

Stark closed the rear hatch of the Quinjet. He took a few steps forward, opened his helmet, and stood right in front of Nick Fury, staring him down seriously.

"You said you needed me here, so you'd better make sure this is as important as you claimed. If I hadn't eavesdropped on your conversation, I would've thought this was just an exercise. Tell me, what are you actually fighting? And don't give me any of that Norse mythology nonsense—I don't believe in bedtime stories."

"The facts are exactly what you heard, Stark," Fury replied, unfazed by Stark's admission of spying on the communication. He knew Stark's personality and methods all too well and wasn't even a little angry. In fact, it saved him the trouble of a long-winded explanation. "Norse gods have descended to Earth, and to maintain relations between Asgard and Earth, we must protect one of them and defend against the enemies attacking Asgard's heir." Fury handed Stark a laptop. "See for yourself. You'll only believe it once you see the evidence. But hurry—we're running out of time."

Tony Stark skeptically took the laptop and quickly browsed through the information. After a few minutes, he returned it to Fury, looking at him as if he were a child with a wild imagination. "They're just aliens. Maybe they came to Earth in the past, and primitive tribes worshipped Asgardians as gods because of their advanced technology. It's no big deal, and it doesn't prove they're actual gods. Fine, they look human, at least this Thor guy does, but not all aliens have to look like E.T." He added, "Even your little agent here must've figured that out. Am I right, Solomon Damonet?"

Stark intentionally shifted the conversation to Solomon. Though he acted nonchalant, his curiosity about the young man was overwhelming—after all, this was a place crawling with aliens. What kind of person was Solomon to warrant Nick Fury bringing him along?

But Solomon still didn't acknowledge Tony Stark, focused instead on directing Luca's actions. He had to ensure the information got out safely, which meant Luca's life was important—for now, at least.

"Why is he ignoring me?" Tony Stark glanced at Solomon in disbelief before turning to Fury, pointing at the mage. "Don't tell me this is S.H.I.E.L.D.'s handiwork—you cut out a kid's tongue and deafened him too?"

"We don't do that kind of thing. He's just choosing not to engage with you," Fury sighed. "He's got nothing to do with you, Stark. Stop asking questions and focus on the task at hand."

"So, does Congress know you're out here fighting aliens?" Stark smirked. "Who's getting the footage from this battle? If the Senate's incompetent politicians find out where I've been using my suit…"

"S.H.I.E.L.D. will handle it," Fury interrupted. "Those senators don't have the clearance to know about this."

"And Congress?"

"That's beyond my control. S.H.I.E.L.D. is a global organization, not a U.S. government agency," Fury said, blatantly lying. "But I can share some of the intel with you, Stark. I know you're curious about Asgard, and I've got some files you can review after the mission. I promise. But I won't tell you where I got my information."

"Deal!" Stark closed his helmet and turned to leave. In truth, he wasn't as reluctant as he appeared—this was about aliens, after all! Third contact! He'd fantasized about this kind of thing as a kid. Every American boy who'd seen E.T. had daydreamed about it. And now, here was alien tech that bore a resemblance to his own suits. He was itching to study it, convinced that the Asgardian armor could inspire improvements to his own designs.

Tony Stark was already excited, though he wasn't about to show it. He was forty years old now, and acting too enthusiastic about aliens would seem childish.

"Sir, the ground troops are requesting support," Agent Romanoff's voice came from the cockpit. "They've used everything they have, and the Asgardians are preparing to engage."

The ground forces were indeed out of options. After exhausting their guided bombs, they had tried various missiles, but with little success—even products from Stark Industries had failed. As for certain anti-personnel weapons like white phosphorus or incendiary bombs, they didn't even dare try.

"Dear Natalie Rushman," Tony Stark called out mockingly, using the fake name Natasha Romanoff had used when she infiltrated Stark Industries, "Did you find a new job after I fired you? It looks pretty good—you even get to fly planes. Care to tell me about your new boss?"

"We're out of time, Stark," Fury cut off Stark's teasing. "Now, get to work. You're already patched into the comms."

"I'm not one of your agents," Stark muttered as he reopened the hatch and leaped out of the aircraft. White flames burst from the thrusters on his hands, feet, and back, propelling him toward the target below. The new triangular Arc Reactor powering the Mark VI suit's electric propulsion system provided immense energy. Stark felt the power coursing through his body and the suit like blood through his veins. The Arc Reactor was like a second heart. Every flight, every beat, made him feel it—the suit was his body. It was moments like these that made him fully realize: I am Iron Man.

Once Tony Stark left the Quinjet, Solomon finally glanced at Fury. "That's your backup plan?" he asked. "What's your contingency if he fails?"

"I have more than one plan." Fury smiled meaningfully. "Iron Man is just part of it."

When Tony Stark reached the Asgardian warriors, he couldn't help but take a closer look at them. There was the burly man with the long beard and rotund belly, dressed in strange armor. The stern warrior with black hair and the woman wielding a sword and shield also caught his eye. Honestly, Stark was curious about their combat style, and he decided not to comment on their seemingly primitive weapons—who knew, they might be high-tech disguised as medieval armaments.

"If you're a friend, don't get in the way!" Volstagg rumbled, chewing on something. "This is a battle of honor!"

"If you're an enemy…" Hogun swung his chain hammer, ready to strike at Tony Stark. After the failure of the ground troops to stall the Destroyer armor, the human forces were out of options. All the tanks had been sliced in half by the armor's lasers, and it marched toward the command post with unstoppable force. The human army could do nothing more to stop it.

"You mortals have done enough," Sif said. "Now, it's time for the warriors of Asgard to fight!"

Following Fury's orders, the ground troops had abandoned their heavy equipment and retreated with the infantry, which had proven useless. The Four Warriors of Asgard, meanwhile, picked up their weapons, ready to stop the Destroyer and cover the humans' retreat. Thor wanted to join the battle too, but both Sif and Jane Foster stopped him. Now that Thor was practically mortal, going into battle would be suicide.

Defeating the Destroyer was nearly impossible. Even Asgard's most courageous warriors couldn't bring it down. Thor could only stand by in frustration, watching his comrades face certain death while he could do nothing. Shame gnawed at his heart. Thor knew the All-Father had been right—he had been arrogant and reckless. In the past, he had treated the throne like a prize from an adventure, something to be won through play.

He realized now how foolish and immature he had been.

But this reflection wouldn't change the current situation. Thor refused to evacuate with S.H.I.E.L.D. and the ground forces. He would stay and see this battle through to the end. No matter the outcome, he would accept it, as it was the price of his stupidity. However, this price had nothing to do with the Four Warriors of Asgard; he had to pay it himself. He had to find a way.

"

Wait, wait, I'm here to help you!" Tony Stark, despite his usual flippant attitude, wasn't about to clash with allies over a misunderstanding in the heat of battle. "I'm working with S.H.I.E.L.D…"

"We know Phil, son of Coul," Sif said, the strategist of the group. "Do you know him?"

"Agent Coulson, of course I know him. I'm…" Before Stark could finish, his suit's thrusters kicked in, jerking him out of the way of a beam that shot from a distance.

"Nice job, JARVIS."

"Thank you, sir," JARVIS replied calmly as ever.

"Okay, it looks like someone's getting impatient." Stark was irritated—this was the first time anyone had interrupted one of his introductions. Or rather, it was the first time he had ever needed to introduce himself and been interrupted.

Not far away, the Destroyer armor was striding toward them, picking up speed until it broke into a run.

"Brave mortal warrior, follow me! Odin's glory will shine upon you!" Sif shouted as she charged forward with her shield and sword. Volstagg wasn't far behind, raising his axe and crashing head-on into the charging Destroyer armor.

There was a massive clang as the two collided, and both Volstagg and the armor were knocked back. Sif and Hogun immediately attacked, slashing their weapons against the Destroyer's gleaming surface, while Fandral deftly maneuvered around to the armor's head, stabbing his slender sword into it.

"Wait a minute! Are you seriously just using medieval weapons?"

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