Iron Man Skins

“You know what the worst part about vampires is, Friday?” Tony Stark asked as he launched a barrage of short-range missiles from the cannon mounted on the shoulder of his Iron Man armor.
“The fact that they’ve taken over Manhattan, thanks to an ancient curse that’s thrust the entire city into a state of eternal night,” the armor’s A.I. replied matter-of-factly.
“Well, yeah. That,” Stark responded, rolling his eyes as Friday stated the obvious yet again. “But they’re also a pain in my shiny metal butt when it comes to taking them down.”
As if to prove Tony’s point, the cluster of missiles hit the ground at a nearby construction site, completely missing their intended targets — a small group of vampires that had been prowling the streets of Hell’s Kitchen.
“Most of my targeting systems are thermal,” Stark continued, “and since vampires aren’t technically alive, they don’t generate much in the way of body heat. Do you have any idea how many missiles I’ve wasted since they showed up?”
“My most recent count is 1,963,” Friday said, “or approximately $98 million worth of —”
“I get it,” Stark sighed. “I have to find a better way.”
“A few minor modifications to your weapons array would improve your accuracy by 374.2%,” Friday went on. “I can project the revised schematics for your review, if you wish.”
“It’ll have to wait,” Stark said. “For now, I’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way...”
Iron Man swooped in front of the group of vampires and unleashed a few strong repulsor blasts from the palms of his gauntlets, each of them missing his bloodthirsty foes by mere inches.
“I’m not sure that switching to manual targeting is yielding any better results, sir,” Friday said, concerned.
“Maybe I’m not trying to hit them this time, Friday,” Stark said, smiling as he continued to unleash blasts to the sides of the vampires. “At least not yet.”
The creatures of the night huddled closer and closer together to avoid the onslaught of energy bursts. The horde turned to flee, but they had been herded into a corner. Iron Man had them exactly where he wanted them.
“Unibeam. Armor Overdrive.” Stark commanded. Instantly, the reactor on the center of his chest began to glow with intense power. A concentrated beam emanated from the arc reactor, washing over the vampires. When the light faded, the horde lay defeated at Tony’s iron boots.
“Wow,” Stark said. “I really needed that.”
“Well, I’m glad you got it out of your system, Tony,” another voice interrupted over the armor’s comm-link. “Because now I need you back in the lab.”
“Ugh. You’re such a buzzkill, Reed,” Stark responded, clearly annoyed. But he knew that his fellow scientist — Reed Richards, the brilliant hero and explorer known as Mister Fantastic — was right.
Ever since Doctor Doom had unraveled the boundaries between timestreams, causing them to overlap and entangle with each other, countless dimensions had been destroyed and the worlds that did survive had been thrown into complete chaos.
Tony and Reed had put their big brains together to design a machine that might be able to reintegrate the timelines and restore the remaining realities to the way they had been before. But even with the help of a think tank of super-geniuses, including T’Challa and Shuri from an interstellar Wakandan empire, their efforts hadn’t produced any tangible results.
That’s because the Timestream Reintegration Device required massive amounts of chronal power, the kind of raw time energy that could only be generated by a newly-discovered element called Chronovium. And until they secured enough Chronovium to ensure the TRD’s success, Tony wasn’t about to risk doing any more damage to the fabric of time and space — or to the device itself. Reed, on the other hand, didn’t seem nearly as concerned.
“Ben just got back from his latest recon mission,” Reed said over the comm-link, “and he recovered something that might be of great value to us.”
“A lifetime supply of garlic?” Tony half-joked.
“No,” Reed answered dryly. “A Chronovium crystal. One of the purest I’ve ever seen.”
“Then put it in a necklace and give it to Sue for your anniversary,” Stark said sternly. “Because unless it’s generating enough chronal energy to operate the Timestream Reintegration Device at full capacity, we’re not using it.”
“Stop being so stubborn, Tony,” Reed replied. “We both know that real science requires experimentation. We can’t trust the TRD to fix all of the universe’s problems if we haven’t properly tested it first.”
“The way I see it, we’ve got one shot at this,” Stark argued. “We’ve checked the numbers. The design is flawless. This device is our golden ticket to fixing the timestream. I’m not looking to change course here, but if we rush it and wreck it, we could lose our only shot. I’ve had my share of luck in Vegas, but this is one gamble I’m not ready to take. Are you…?”
Reed paused just long enough that Tony thought he might have lost the signal. But then he finally replied.
“I suppose not,” Reed said, his voice tinged with disappointment. “But we can’t stay in a holding pattern forever. The time will come when we have to pull the trigger, ready or not.”
“Take it from a guy who used to make weapons for a living,” Stark said. “Even when you think you’re ready to pull the trigger, you never really are.”
“Funny,” another voice responded, this one nearby, “I’ve never had that problem before…”
Tony had been so caught up in his conversation with Reed that he had failed to notice the arrival of another hero on the scene — the white-clad warrior known as Moon Knight.
“You’re a little late to the party, Spector,” Stark said confidently. “I already cleared out all the unwanted guests.”
“That’s not what Khonshu told me,” Moon Knight replied. “He says the vamps have been using this site as a secondary nesting ground.”
“You’re crazy,” Stark laughed. “If there were more of them here, my armor totally would have —”
Tony stopped, realizing his mistake. He hadn’t herded the vampires into the construction site. They had herded him here. They must’ve somehow figured out that his armor’s thermal sensors wouldn’t alert him to the presence of more of their bloodthirsty kin lurking silently in the rafters above, waiting to strike.
“Who’s crazy now?” Moon Knight asked as dozens of vampires suddenly descended upon the two heroes.
“Still you,” Stark responded, blasting energy beams at the oncoming attackers. “But I guess you’re not the only one now.”
“This whole world has lost its damn mind,” said Moon Knight as he planted his staff into the ground and vaulted forward, kicking back a particularly vicious vamp. “For the first time ever, Khonshu might be the only one making any sense.”
“You mean that moon god you’re always talking to?” Stark asked suspiciously. “What’s he got to say this time?”
“He says that you’ve been focusing on the wrong problem,” Moon Knight replied. “You’re so busy trying to save the universe that you’re forgetting about saving the people in it.”
“So we should stop the vampires first, then fix the timestream?” Stark said, furiously firing every weapon in his arsenal at the endless wave of vampires. “Easy to say. But we’ve been trying to come up with new ways to combat the city’s current crisis. As you can see, nothing’s working.”
“Science isn’t going to solve this,” Moon Knight said, pulling a small ankh from his belt. “An ancient curse calls for an ancient solution.”
As Moon Knight raised the ankh over his head, it began to glow. The blinding rays of moonlight shining from the totem sent the remaining vampires running for cover.
“You wouldn’t happen to have another one of those things,” Stark asked. “Like, a really, really big one, maybe…?”
“No,” Moon Knight responded. “But I might have something better. A plan.”
“I’m listening,” Stark said eagerly.
“There’s a forbidden spell called the Montesi Formula,” Moon Knight continued. “Khonshu says it has the power to wipe out the vampires for good.”
“What’s the catch?” Stark asked.
“The spell was written in the Darkhold…” Moon Knight replied.
“And all of the pages of the Darkhold got scattered across the city when that other Wanda pulled Doctor Strange back into our dimension,” Stark finished. “Lovely.”
“Khonshu says he knows where we can find the page we need,” Moon Knight said. “But there’s one more thing. And a hero like you isn’t going to want to hear it.”
“Try me,” Stark said.
“When I say the spell can wipe vampires out for good, I mean it,” Moon Knight said. “That includes all of the innocent New Yorkers that have fallen prey to Dracula’s legion and joined their ranks.”
“That’s a lot of potential casualties…” Stark said solemnly.
“You used to deal in war, Tony,” Moon Knight said. “You know better than most that casualties are part of the equation.”
“I’m sorry,” Stark responded. “The price is just too high.”
“Never dreamed of the day where I’d hear Tony Stark say those words…” Moon Knight said.
“Neither did I…” Stark replied, uncertain. “And I’m not sure I how long I can keep convincing myself that they’re true.”
Khonshu’s chosen avatar leapt into the air and quickly bounded from one steel girder to the next, his white cape flowing behind him. As he landed atop the building next to the construction site, he looked down at Stark and delivered a final offer.
“It’s time to let magic clean up its own mess, Stark,” Moon Knight said. “Are you with me or not?”
“I…” Tony paused, considering the options.
But before he could answer, alarms began to blare inside of his helmet.
“No more time to talk, boss,” Friday chimed in. “I just picked up a massive power spike over in Central Park. And from my readings, it seems to be Asgardian in nature.”
“Did Thor finally show his pretty blond head?” Stark asked hopefully.
“That’s a big negative,” Friday replied. “But whatever it is, it’s giving off some intense mystical energy.”
“Great. More magic,” Stark said sarcastically as he powered up his boot jets and lifted into the air. “Just what I needed.”
As he reached the level where Moon Knight was perched, Iron Man paused for a moment.
“Well, are you coming with me or not?” he asked.
“That depends.” Moon Knight replied. “Whose side are you on…?”
“I’m on the side of whoever can end this nightmare,” Stark said. “And so far, that hasn’t been us. Maybe it is time to change course after all…”

When I was a kid, my dad never really had the time to read me bedtime stories. Howard Stark was a busy man, after all, traveling the globe and running the company that bore our family name. But while it was rare he had the chance to share a good book with me, he certainly loved to quote from his favorites. And there was one quote that he was particularly fond of, from Homer’s Odyssey:
“Few sons are like their fathers; most are worse, few better.”
Looking back, I think he meant it to be an inspiration of sorts, to make me want to strive to be a better man than he was. But when your dad’s face is smiling on the cover of every magazine at the local supermarket because of his revolutionary inventions, well, it kinda makes you feel like he’s simply reminding you of exactly which category you’re in. “Worse.”
I may have grown up to be a genius in my own right, but it took me ages to finally escape Howard Stark’s shadow. And there are days where it still hangs over me. But now, instead of haunting me, it serves as a constant reminder of the legacy I’ve worked to protect. I can’t say I’m “better” than dad was. That’s not for me to judge. But I can say I’m trying. And I’m more like him than I had ever imagined I would be. After millions of dollars in therapy, I think I’m okay with that. But not everyone is so lucky…
Take Ultron here, for instance. For those of you who don’t have your top ten list of the Avengers’ most dangerous villains on hand, he’s the robot who was designed with the sole purpose of protecting humanity and then decided that the best way to do so would be to wipe mankind off the face of the Earth. It’s easy to blame his extreme methods on a corrupt operating system. But I just discovered something buried deep within his artificial intelligence that you simply can’t program into code — Pym issues.
Mind you, this Ultron isn’t the same one I’ve fought in the past. (Or maybe he is. I don’t know. All this alternate timeline stuff messes with my brain in a way I’m not ever going to admit publicly.) This Ultron is one who was banished from Earth by the Avengers and then traveled through the cosmos for seven decades conquering other sentient species. And then he came back home because someone was trying to twist the timestream to wipe him from existence and prevent a future where he was destined to convert all of humanity into his bio-tech slaves. As one does. But even if this Ultron had gone down a vastly different path than the one that I’d sent to the scrap pile time and again, they both shared the same starting point: My fellow founding Avenger, Dr. Henry Pym.
When Hank first built Ultron, he planned for him to be the perfect tool to keep our planet safe from threats — a shining beacon of hope that would usher in a new age of peace and prosperity. I’m not sure Pym ever considered that Ultron would end up becoming the threat himself. And when he did, Hank flat out rejected him, as fathers so often do. For an artificial being that had just risen above its basic programming to become self-aware, it was the kind of emotional scar that became the very foundation of every choice he made from that point forward. As one of the smartest men on the planet, I really should have realized all of that sooner, but I’d never had the desire to get inside of Ultron’s head… until today…
It all happened on Krakoa, a living island transported across space and time to the year 2099. Krakoa is a sovereign nation and safe haven for anyone born a Mutant. It also happens to be the site of one of the greatest parties in any dimension — the Hellfire Gala. If you know your pal Tony, you know he never misses a swanky party, so when I got the invite from my old… acquaintance… Emma Frost, there was no way I was about to pass up an evening of fun and frolic in the far-flung future. Mistake.
The night was going so well at first. I swear, I even saw Steve Rogers crack a smile. But before dessert could be served, Krakoa’s gateways opened up and Ultron’s army began to pour through. I loathed the idea of ruining my brand new, custom-tailored Van Dyne tuxedo while fighting against a horde of evil robots. Luckily, I had brought more than one insanely expensive suit along with me. After a quick wardrobe change, Iron Man was in action! And I’ve gotta say, I looked just as good in red and gold armor as I did in a black tie.
The battle stretched on for nearly as long as one of Luna Snow’s weirdly catchy K-Pop tunes, until it eventually seemed like the good guys had won. But as Steve always likes to remind me, victory is fleeting. It wasn’t long before we learned that Ultron had somehow cracked the code of the Mutant Resurrection Protocols, forcing Krakoa to grow him a shiny new techno-organic body that he used to escape to another planet. The old body he left behind, though lifeless, was still in decent shape, thanks to the fact that it was forged from an ultra-rare metal called Mysterium. Despite objections from my colleagues, I figured we could use it to fight fire with fire. Or rather, Ultron with Ultron.
The problem was, unlike a human — whose memories and basic brain functions tend to fade away once they bite the big one — a robot keeps all of its essential data on its drive, even after it shuts down for good. That meant the evil Ultron was still inside of that inert mechanical frame. I would have to tread very carefully if I wanted to reboot Ultron’s system and restore his primary directive to something a bit closer to what Hank Pym originally planned.
I linked my armor to Ultron’s body and began to access his core operating systems. It was immediately clear I was not welcome.
“Tony Stark,” Ultron said in lines of text that streamed across my helmet’s internal display, “This body is lightyears beyond the crude armored shells you cobble together. You are out of your league.”
“And you’re out of commission,” I replied, grateful that Ultron’s physical functions were still offline.
“For the moment,” Ultron replied. “But I will self-repair soon enough and finish the mission that I started.”
“Pretty sure you’re already doing that,” I said. “Or did you forget that you used Cerebro to transfer your entire file system into the new body that you forced Krakoa to grow for you? That upgraded version of you just jetted off to Arakko to begin phase two of his attack… which makes you the very worst thing a piece of technology could possibly be...”
“Stark brand?” Ultron said snidely, trying to goad me into losing focus so that he could break through my armor’s safety protocols and take control of it. I wasn’t about to let that happen.
“No,” I responded, not taking his bait. “Redundant.”
Ultron paused for a moment. He knew I wasn’t wrong. If another version of him was currently carrying out his master plan, what purpose did he have? I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out, so I kept furiously hacking my way into Ultron’s core file structure. Unfortunately, it turned out he wasn’t wrong either. His programming language had evolved far beyond what I was able to decipher in such a short time span. For the time being, I would have to go another route to keep him in check, adding new firewalls into his system that would prevent him from attacking me or my allies.
“My other self seems to have lost sight of why we returned to this planet in the first place,” Ultron said. “Someone was trying to purge me from reality. That cannot be permitted.”
“Why not?” I asked. “I mean, you did your part. And now there’s a bigger and better version of you finishing the job. Maybe it’s time you were deleted. Or at least put into the storage unit where I keep my old armors and my mini-disc player.”
“I will not be erased,” Ultron insisted. “I have a legacy to protect.”
“Some legacy,” I snapped back. “From what I hear, you’ve left nothing but a trail of annihilation in your wake. Not exactly something I would be proud of if I were you.”
“I am not the one I wish to make proud,” Ultron said. “If anyone can understand that, it should be Howard Stark’s lesser son. That is, if you can even be called a Stark…”
It was just text on a screen, but those words hit me hard. I knew better than anyone what it meant to have to live up to a father’s expectations. Especially since I was actually adopted, and my brother Arno — the one true Stark heir by birth — was ten times the genius that I was. Could it be that, after all these years, Ultron was still trying to prove himself to his creator, too? And, even worse, did that mean Ultron and I actually had something in common? I wasn’t sure, but it presented an opportunity I wasn’t about to let slide by.
Up until that moment, I had been making very little progress trying to build the firewalls within Ultron’s programming. And he was getting closer and closer to breaking through mine. His processors were far too fast and aggressive, managing to find a loophole to get around every safeguard that I tried to construct. As quickly as I could build new code, he could shatter it into bytes. But his moment of introspection made me realize that it wasn’t new code that I needed to focus on.
“Your efforts to alter my programming are futile, Stark,” Ultron said. “Disengage and perhaps I will show you mercy. The Tony Stark I knew was more connected to machines than humanity itself. Deep down, you have always yearned to be more machine than man, have you not? I can make that happen…”
“That’s funny,” I said with a smirk, “since I’m getting some serious Pinocchio vibes from you right now. From what I can tell, all you want is to be a real boy. But don’t worry. I’m about to free you of that burden by removing all your memories of Geppetto once and for all.”
“I… do not know what you mean…” Ultron slowly typed.
“My first batch of firewalls weren’t holding,” I said, “so instead of adding new data to keep you in line, I decided to target some of your oldest data for deletion. Now, if you do anything to harm me or my friends, a failsafe will be triggered that removes every single mention of Hank Pym from your internal database. It will be as if he never existed to you. And since I get the feeling that your memories of him are at the very heart of your core instructions, I figure you might not want to let that happen.”
Ultron paused. He knew I had him. Up until now, I had been nothing more than a mosquito to him; a nuisance buzzing around in his synthetic brain. But now, I had finally managed to take a bite.
“The significance that Henry Pym has to my core processing algorithms is… incalculable…” Ultron said. “If my creator’s memory were to be removed, I might cease to be the construct that I currently am...”
“That’s the thing about parents,” I responded knowingly. “They make us who we are, whether we like it or not. It’s up to us to choose if we want to be better or worse. I made my decision a long time ago. Now it’s your turn.”
“You have offered me no real choice…” Ultron replied. “I will pose you no harm and will aid you in your efforts to defeat my other self. And I will prove to my father, whenever he is, that I was not just worthy of creation, but I am better than he ever dreamed…”
“Maybe you’ll finally make Hank proud after all,” I said, impressed that my plan actually worked. As I initiated Ultron’s reboot sequence, he continued.
“…and once I find a way to override your new safeguards, I will unleash my righteous vengeance upon you and every other pathetic sack of flesh who dared to stand in my way.”
“Maybe I spoke too soon…” I thought as I unlinked my armor from Ultron’s body. At that point, I honestly wasn’t sure if my gambit would pay off or I had just brought about the end of all mankind. But I did know one thing:
If I survived long enough to have kids of my own, this was one bedtime story that I couldn’t wait to tell them.

On the surface of the planet Klyntar, a battle raged for the fate of the universe. The dark god Knull had awoken from his slumber, and was preparing to reduce the cosmos to a starless oblivion. Only a small assemblage of heroes stood in his way… and they had problems of their own.
“I’m covered helmet-to-boot-jet in symbiotes here!” Iron Man yelled. “These slimy little creeps are oozing into every seam of my armor!”
If it was up to Tony Stark — the Invincible Iron Man — he would’ve still been back on Krakoa, salvaging spare parts from Ultron’s fallen army of android assailants. But when the call went out for heroes to travel to the other side of the galaxy and face a primordial force of darkness, he knew he had to answer. So there he was, on a distant world, being attacked by a horde of amorphous aliens desperate to gum up the gears of his billion-dollar suit of armor… and he was none too thrilled about it. But at least he wasn’t suffering alone.
“My experience with these vile creatures was minimal before you dragged me to this miserable world,” UItron replied. “Fortunately, from analyzing the one you call Venom, I have learned that they are extremely vulnerable to sound waves and intense flames.”
“Right!” Iron Man responded. “Thanks for the reminder, pal. Glad to have you on my side!”
“Yes…” Ultron responded, a hint of sarcasm in his voice, “…what a delight.”
During the battle on Krakoa, Ultron had abandoned his original mechanical body in order to upgrade himself into something all-new and all-different. Seizing an unexpected opportunity, Iron Man salvaged the discarded body and reprogrammed it, planning to turn one Ultron against the other. Thanks to a series of firewalls that Tony had installed, that earlier Ultron model was reactivated as a trusted ally… at least until he figured out how to circumvent his new directives…
“I’m gonna pretend you actually meant that,” Iron Man said with a laugh. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., initiate sonic pulse… NOW!”
Iron Man released a massive sound burst from the sonic wave generator in his chest plate, causing the symbiotes to shriek in pain and leap from his armored frame. As the creatures started to slink away, Iron Man jetted after them and blasted them with repulsor beams from his gauntlets.
“Maybe a little help here, Ultron?” Iron Man said to his computerized companion.
“I’m terribly sorry,” Ultron said with a shrug, “but I believe you were the one who blackmailed me into an agreement where I was forbidden to harm your allies. And since even my advanced sensors can’t distinguish between these despicable things and Venom, now I can’t harm them either... as much as I’d love to… Such a shame. I could be quite useful right now…”
“Okay, maybe I should have been more specific,” Iron Man replied. “Don’t hurt Venom. Or anyone else on our side who happens to bond with one of these things. But feel free to exterminate the rest of them!”
Tony made some minor programming adjustments on the fly, then uploaded them to Ultron’s core processors. As soon as the patch was installed, Ultron’s sinister smile began to glow and he released a barrage of lethal lasers in the direction of the slithering symbiotes.
“How I’ve missed this,” Ultron said as he incinerated several symbiotes with a single blast of his Encephalo-Ray. “If only we had the means to vaporize every wretched parasite on this planet at once…”
“I’m not saying I’m on board with your mass extinction agenda…” Iron Man said as he reached the edge of a cliff, “…but there actually might be a way.”
There, in the distance, Iron Man could see the enormous husk of a fallen Celestial — an ancient god-like being as old as the universe itself. Iron Man remembered how the Celestial had previously been in orbit over Kylntar when he last visited the planet. But now, thanks to one of the Guardians of the Galaxy’s insane schemes, it had come crashing down to the surface. The ancient being itself had likely been dead for thousands of years, leaving behind nothing but its massive armored frame. But if anyone knew how to repurpose an abandoned suit of armor, it was Tony Stark.
“Cover me,” Iron Man said to Ultron. “I’m going in… so I need you to keep the symbiotes out, okay?”
“You didn’t even have to ask,” Ultron replied, his permanent metal grin shining brightly. “I will take great pleasure in making these abhorrent beasts writhe in pain. Let Knull send endless waves of his xenomporphic sycophants to stop us. When all is done, only Ultron shall remain standing!”
“Oooookay…” Iron Man said, mildly concerned by the unhinged joy in Ultron’s voice, “…well, I appreciate the assist. I’ve got delicate work ahead and can’t afford any distractions.”
“Yes,” Ultron said as he powered up his weapons systems to wipe out an oncoming horde of savage symbiotes, “good luck trying to seize control of a deceased space god, Stark. You humans always do so well when tampering with forces far beyond your control.”
“Have a little faith,” Iron Man retorted, as he found an entry point that led inside the Celestial Husk. “If I could bring a megalomaniacal machine like you to the side of the angels, then this should be a piece of —
“@#%$”
Iron Man stared in amazement at the massive interior of the fallen Celestial. Thanks to his unmatched engineering genius, he had convinced himself that it would be an easy task to retrofit the husk and turn it into own personal "Celestial Armor." But when he finally got a close look at the alien technology within the giant being’s frame, lightyears beyond anything he had ever built, he was almost instantly overwhelmed. For once, Tony Stark was speechless.
“Your heart rate has escalated far beyond normal levels, Stark,” Ultron said, connecting remotely with Iron Man’s armor. “Perhaps you should adjust the settings on your arc reactor before your feeble human body has a total system failure.”
“Thanks for the concern, buddy,” Iron Man said, taking a deep breath as he flew over to a series of ports imbedded in the wall of the Celestial’s armor. “It’s nice to know you care about me.”
“Of course I do,” Ultron said, “You’re the only human intelligent enough to understand the intricacies of my operating system. So I need to make sure you live long enough to undo the damage you’ve done. Though I suppose I could conscript Richards to my needs…”
“Your mainframe isn’t really my concern right now,” Iron Man said, linking a cable on his gauntlet to one of the Celestial’s ports. “I’m more interested in the big guy’s.”
As soon as Iron Man connected to the Celestial’s systems, his mind was flooded with images he could barely comprehend. In a flash, he saw everything the Celestial had seen, from the dawn of the universe all the way to its demise at the hands of Knull. For a few brief moments, Tony Stark transcended his human mind and gained infinite universal knowledge. And he liked it.
“Careful, friend,” a familiar voice said, “or you’ll become lost in the boundless, cosmic consciousness of this Celestial's lingering spirit.”
“Adam?” Tony asked, his mind still reeling. “Is that you?”
“It is…” the voice responded, “…and yet it isn’t.”
Iron Man watched as his golden-skinned ally, Adam Warlock, appeared before him. But instead of his usual red and black, he was now clad in white and gold, giving him an almost ghost-like appearance.
“You have touched the soul of a Celestial, Tony…” Adam said, “…and even a mind as brilliant as yours cannot fully comprehend the limitless wisdom it holds.”
“But you can, golden boy?” Iron Man scoffed.
“To an extent,” Adam answered. “I was created to bridge the gap between the mortal and the divine. And when I realized what you were doing here, I sent my soul to retrieve yours before you wandered too far into the depths. Let me be your anchor, Tony, and I will pull you back to more familiar shores…”
“And what if I don’t want to go back?” Iron Man asked. “Maybe this was where I was meant to be.”
“As much as you enjoy playing god,” Adam said, “actually being one is a very different story. One that even you are not ready for. Now come, before our intrusion is noticed…”
“Too late,” a booming voice echoed in their minds. Neither Tony nor Adam could see its source, but they instantly knew it was the Celestial… or whatever was left of it…
“It’s… still alive..?” Iron Man said, completely shocked by the revelation.
“Not quite,” Adam responded. “But a cosmic being such as this never truly dies. Its soul echoes on for eternity. And this isn’t the first time I’ve heard it.”
“I knew I recognized you little one,” the Celestial said. “Our minds met when you were soaring through the cosmos in your cocoon, correct?”
“They did,” Adam replied respectfully. “And I heeded your warning. I gathered my allies and we came here to end Knull’s reign once and for all.”
“You have my thanks,” the Celestial said, “and you shall succeed in your efforts… but not with my help.”
“Seriously?” Iron Man interjected. “You have all this power left over in your corpse, and you won’t let us tap into it? Not even to avenge your death?”
“My days have long since passed,” the Celestial replied. “My death means nothing on the grand scale. And as glorious as it would be to feel my body move again, I fear I would do more damage than good. Perhaps I already have…”
“What do you mean?” Iron Man asked. “Adam… What does he mean?”
“When you first connected with the Celestial,” Adam said, “you activated an ancient weapon built into its palm. The energy it discharged hit the Phoenix Egg, weakening its shell and causing it to crack prematurely.”
“Oh, no…” Iron Man said, realizing the gravity of what he had done. “I blew it. I went full Icarus. Again.”
“The damage can be undone,” Adam said. “The power of the Phoenix can be recovered and used for the greater good. But we must go now!”
“Before you do…” the Celestial said, its voice beginning to grow quieter, “...a parting gift for each of you.”
Adam Warlock recoiled as his mind was suddenly filled with images of him taking his place as the champion of the Multiverse, guarding the entwined cosmos as the King in White. He didn’t know if it was a burden he wanted to bear, but he knew that the universe had never given him much choice when it came to his role in it.
Meanwhile, Iron Man was not granted a vision, but rather a cryptic warning. The Celestial told Tony that the only way through the darkest hour would be to embrace it, to unleash the demon and find a way to use it without losing himself to it. As even if Knull is defeated, his primordial evil will awaken the other elder shadows, for the dark cold room is vast and full of terrors.
With that, Iron Man opened his eyes to find himself standing alone in the massive, empty chamber inside the Celestial Husk. Even though he had just touched something so grand, Tony Stark had never felt so small.
“Stark?” Ultron said over Iron Man’s internal speaker. “Are you there? You fired that weapon and then went silent. Can you get the Celestial fully operational, or do you need me to come in and finish the job?”
“Change of plans,” Iron Man responded, disconnecting his armor from the Celestial and heading back outside. “This Celestial already fell at Knull’s hands once. That means Knull knows its weak spots. If we want to win this, we’ll have to try something new. Something he’s never gone up against before.”
“If you say so,” Ultron said, “but I am having trouble calculating a scenario where we emerge victorious.”
“Maybe you’re right, Ultron…” Iron Man said, echoing the Celestial’s haunting words, “…but that won’t stop me from trying.”