Marvelous Pals #63

I sat on a pile of cinder blocks, elbows on my knees, hands clasped in front of me as I stared at the cracked pavement below. The quiet of the abandoned lot pressed in around me, broken only by the distant hum of the city that never slept. I should’ve been back by now—back to Palbagos Island, back to training, back to whatever passed for normal in this twisted new reality. But here I was, still in New York, still turning over the same question in my mind: What the hell do I do next?

Dealing with Kraven had been a lot more straightforward than I’d expected—too straightforward, if I was being honest. I’d walked into that fight ready to kill him, fully expecting that it would be the only way to get rid of him for good. But instead, I’d ended up with something far more complicated.

I glanced at the Pal Sphere in my hand, its polished surface reflecting the dim streetlights overhead. I’d thought Kraven would die a gruesome death if I tried to capture him with one of these things. The idea of using it on him had seemed almost merciful compared to the alternative. But now, a new possibility had emerged, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I muttered to myself, “I need to confirm what these spheres can really do before I make any decisions.”

With a flick of my wrist, I hurled the Pal Sphere at the ground. It snapped open mid-air, and from within, the figure of Kraven the Hunter materialized, dropping to the pavement with a heavy thud.

My fingers twitched, ready to use my telekinetic powers to subdue him if necessary, but the precaution turned out to be unnecessary.

Kraven immediately fell to one knee, bowing his head low. “Greetings, Master,” he said, his voice steady, almost reverent.

I raised an eyebrow, not quite believing what I was hearing. “Master?” I echoed, disbelief lacing my words.

Kraven nodded, his posture unwavering. “Yes, you are my master.”

A chuckle escaped me, dry and humorless. “Are you the same guy who said he’d kill me and mount my head on his fireplace no more than a few hours ago?”

Kraven looked up, meeting my gaze without hesitation. “That was before. Now, you have shown your superiority. You have conquered me, and so I serve.”

I stared at him, my mind struggling to wrap around the sudden shift. The defiant, unyielding hunter who had sworn to chase me to the ends of the earth was now kneeling at my feet, calling me ‘master’ like some loyal dog. It didn’t add up—none of it did. But then again, nothing about this situation was normal.

Honestly, it was almost laughable. But I didn't laugh. I didn't buy it.

“Alright, Kraven,” I said, my voice cutting through the silence. “I don’t trust this sudden change of heart. Loyalty isn’t something you can just flip like a switch. So tell me—how exactly are you planning to prove it?”

Kraven looked up, his eyes steady and unflinching. “However you wish, Master. Command me, and I will obey.”

I raised an eyebrow, skepticism lacing my thoughts. “Alright then,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “Let’s start with something simple. Stand on one foot.”

Without missing a beat, Kraven lifted one leg, balancing on the other like it was the most natural thing in the world. He didn’t waver, didn’t even blink, as if this was a perfectly reasonable thing to do.

“Jump,” I ordered next, watching closely.

Kraven obeyed, springing into the air with the same precision and grace he used in battle. He landed lightly, still balanced on one foot, waiting for my next command.

“Now twirl,” I added, a smirk creeping onto my face. This was absurd, and yet Kraven complied without hesitation, spinning like some demented ballet dancer before coming to a stop, his posture unwavering.

I shook my head, amusement mingling with disbelief. “Impressive,” I admitted, though my tone was dry. “But I’ll believe you if you do one final thing.”

Kraven’s expression didn’t change, his focus unbroken. “What must I do, Master?”

I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I reached into my coat and pulled out a knife, the blade gleaming under the dim light. Without a word, I tossed it to him, watching as he caught it effortlessly.

“Kill yourself,” I said, the command leaving my lips with chilling calm.

For a moment, just a fraction of a second, Kraven’s eyes widened, a flash of surprise breaking through his stoic exterior. But then, just as quickly, the expression vanished. He gripped the knife firmly, nodding once in acknowledgment.

“As you command.”

I watched, my heart beating steadily, as Kraven turned the blade on himself. His movements were precise, calculated—just like everything he did. The knife’s point touched his chest, pressing into the skin. Blood welled up around the blade as it broke through, a crimson stain spreading across his clothes. His eyes never left mine, even as the knife cut deeper, reaching bone.

I didn’t flinch, didn’t move, as the blade drove further. Only when it was about to pierce his heart did I intervene. With a mere thought, I stopped the knife, holding it in place with my telekinesis.

Kraven’s hand trembled slightly, but he didn’t resist. He simply waited.

“Alright,” I said quietly, the tension in the air thick enough to cut. “I believe you now.”

With a flick of my wrist, I pulled the knife away from his chest, letting it clatter to the ground. Kraven didn’t move, didn’t make a sound as I retrieved the Pal Sphere and pointed it at him.

“Back you go,” I muttered, activating the sphere. In an instant, the same blue light that had captured him before engulfed Kraven once more, pulling him into the sphere like a ghost being sucked into a vacuum.

The sphere hovered in the air for a moment before it floated back to my hand, sealing itself with a soft click.

I stared at the sphere for a moment, a grin slowly spreading across my face. “Looks like I don’t have to do the dirty work myself,” I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief. The possibilities were endless, and I was just beginning to understand the true power I held.

Sliding the sphere into my pocket, I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I found the name I was looking for. I tapped the screen, waiting as the line connected.

“Hey, Carlos,” I said, my voice casual, almost cheerful. “Remember how I saved your life and your misses? Well, I think it’s time you return the favor.”

...

Tony Stark sat in his living room, the soft glow of a nearby lamp casting shadows across the sleek, modern furniture that filled the space. His attention, however, was fixed entirely on the miniature arc reactor he was tinkering with, small fragments of Paldium scattered across the table like precious gems. The reactor’s core pulsed faintly, each flicker a testament to the energy contained within—an energy that had become both his lifeline and his obsession.

The television droned on in the background, the voice of a news anchor cutting through the quiet with the latest reports on Stark Industries. “...Tony Stark’s decision to cease manufacturing military weapons has sent shockwaves through the stock market. Shareholders are jumping ship, and the company’s value has plummeted...”

The screen abruptly went dark, the anchor’s voice silenced. Tony barely registered the change until he felt a presence beside him. He glanced up to see Pepper Potts standing there, remote in hand, her expression a mix of frustration and concern.

“Really?” Tony said, a smirk playing on his lips. “I was just getting to the good part.”

Pepper crossed her arms, her brow furrowed in irritation. “Those media outlets are no different than vultures, Tony. They make things ten times worse than they are, which actually makes things ten times worse than they need to be....”

Tony chuckled, his hands never pausing in their work as he adjusted a delicate component within the reactor. “Is it that bad?”

Pepper sighed, her shoulders dropping slightly. “It’s worse. A lot of people are selling their shares. It’s like a fire sale out there. But what’s strange is that someone’s been buying up the sold stocks almost as soon as they hit the market. Even so, the value keeps dropping.”

Tony waved her concerns away with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “Don’t worry about it, Pep.”

Her eyes narrowed, a flash of impatience crossing her face. “You’re not seriously telling me not to worry when the company’s in free fall, are you? Do you even have a plan?”

Tony finally looked up from his work, meeting her gaze with that signature Stark confidence. “When have I ever not had a plan?” he quipped, his tone light but carrying an underlying certainty that only he could muster.

Pepper opened her mouth to reply but stopped short as Tony held up the now-completed arc reactor, the device gleaming with its newly upgraded Paldium-enhanced core. It was a masterpiece, small yet powerful, the culmination of countless hours of research and tinkering.

Without another word, Tony stood, heading towards the lab with the reactor in hand. The conversation was over in his mind, the next step already clear to him. Pepper watched him go, her worry not entirely dispelled but tempered by the undeniable fact that Tony Stark was always two steps ahead—even when he didn’t let anyone else in on the plan.

“Just... don’t take too long,” she called after him, her voice softer now, a plea wrapped in practicality.

Tony glanced back with a grin that bordered on mischievous. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

He disappeared down the hallway, leaving Pepper standing in the living room, the silence heavy after the brief exchange. She shook her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth despite herself.

Stark Industries might be in turmoil, but if there was one thing she knew for certain, it was that Tony would find a way through. He always did.