Marvel : Endless Power

Rody was very satisfied with the design—it looked sleek and functional, far better than the bulky prototypes he had initially imagined. However, Tony, never one to hold back, smirked and struck him mercilessly with a critique.

"This pile of scrap metal looks impressive, but if you actually wear it, you'll barely be able to walk," Tony quipped, crossing his arms as he studied the design.

"You're the genius who designs the power systems and weapon functions. I'm just handling aesthetics and practicality," Rody shot back. "But if I'm making suggestions, this thing has to be able to fly. Here, and here…" He pointed at areas where repulsors could be fitted. His hands moved instinctively, hardening the idea of a palm cannon and reinforcing the miniature Arc Reactor in the holographic model.

Tony initially dismissed Rody's suggestions as amateurish, but as the armor's shape evolved, he found himself intrigued. A few of Rody's ideas even aligned with what he had in mind but hadn't put into practice. His mind whirred with inspiration, and soon, he yanked control of the interface away from Rody, making adjustments with a fervor only Stark possessed.

Rody stood back, watching Tony work, his eyes glazing over at the endless equations and engineering blueprints filling the holographic display. However, every now and then, he tossed in a suggestion—small details he recalled from watching the Iron Man trilogy. Some of these insights caused Tony to pause, arch an eyebrow, and mutter, "Not bad."

"My dear cousin," Tony said after a while, his voice laced with amusement, "your technical knowledge is embarrassingly basic, but your creativity is surprisingly decent. If you want, I can find you a spot in Stark Industries' R&D division."

"I'd love to learn more, as long as you don't mind the trouble of teaching me." Rody grinned. Being part of the Iron Man suit's development was an opportunity no young engineer—or in his case, a system-enhanced interloper—could refuse.

The more Rody thought about it, the more he realized how important it was for him to grasp this knowledge. What's the point of getting a suit if I can't maintain or upgrade it? He didn't want to end up like Colonel James "Rhodey" Rhodes, whose War Machine suit was powerful but still reliant on Stark's expertise.

"Well, the Stark family motto has always been: 'Do it first, talk later!'" Tony smirked. "So, let's get started."

For a full week, Rody and Tony worked relentlessly on refining the armor. What seemed like a few cool montage minutes in the movies was, in reality, a grueling, repetitive process. After all their efforts, they had only managed to perfect the palm-mounted repulsor cannons.

Despite the monotony, Rody absorbed information like a sponge. His system-enhanced memory made him a quick learner, and though he wasn't in Tony's league, he had become a capable assistant.

Today was an unusual break—Tony had a crucial meeting in Washington, leaving Rody with some free time. He decided to seize the opportunity to investigate the legendary Osborne Building.

Tony had enough sports cars to rival Bruce Wayne's collection, but Rody opted for the lowest-key option—a sleek Porsche. Even so, he still turned heads as he sped toward downtown New York. To avoid unwanted attention, he parked a few blocks away and walked the rest of the distance.

The last time he roamed these streets, he was just another lost traveler from another world. Now, he was a billionaire's cousin, driving luxury cars and working on high-tech suits. The transformation was surreal.

As he approached the Osborne Building, Rody expanded his mental energy, scanning his surroundings within a 30-meter radius. He wasn't just practicing control—he was ensuring he wasn't being followed by whatever force had tried to kill him before. Fortunately, the trip remained uneventful.

The building was bustling with activity, but entry required an ID badge. Adjusting his cap to cast a shadow over his face, Rodi approached the entrance.

"Excuse me, sir, but I need to see your ID," a security guard said, stepping forward.

"I don't have an access card," Rody admitted, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a document folder stamped with the Oscorp logo—something he had prepared in advance. "But I found this on a taxi seat. Thought I'd return it and maybe find the owner."

The guard glanced at the folder before nodding. "You can leave it with me. Just provide your contact info in case we need to follow up."

That was not what Rody wanted. He needed to get inside.

Raising his head, he locked eyes with the guard and spoke slowly. "I think it's best if I take this to the reception myself. It's only a few meters away, right in your line of sight. No trouble at all, wouldn't you agree?"

The guard hesitated, his mind clouded by a strange, persuasive force. A voice whispered in his head—This guy seems trustworthy.

"…Alright," the guard relented. "Just head straight to the front desk."

Rody exhaled sharply. Using hypnosis took more effort than a direct psychic attack. His vision blurred for a moment, and a sharp pain throbbed in his skull, but he pushed forward.

At the reception desk, he handed over the forged document folder to a pleasant-looking receptionist.

"I found this in a cab," he said, forcing a polite smile. "Could you check if it belongs to someone in the company?"

The receptionist barely questioned him—after all, he had just come from security.

"Of course. Give me a moment."

Rody nodded, feigning interest in his surroundings before casually adding, "By the way, where's the nearest restroom?"

She pointed down the hall, and he made his way there without further interruption.

Once inside, Rody locked the stall door and leaned against the wall. His pulse was pounding, and his breath was unsteady. That took more out of me than I expected.

He waited ten minutes, allowing his strength to return, then unfastened his sleeves, revealing a pair of Assassin's Creed-style retractable armguards. Pressing a button, a thin black hook shot upward, latching onto the ceiling vent.

With a soft whirr, the retractable line pulled him up. His other armguard deployed a set of compact tools, which he used to pry open the vent. Moving with careful precision, he slid inside and sealed the opening behind him.

The ventilation shaft was surprisingly clean, though a fine layer of dust coated the metal. Good thing I wore my clothes inside-out before climbing in.

However, his path was blocked. A few meters ahead, the duct narrowed to an impassable width. Clearly, Oscorp had designed this system to prevent intruders.

No problem. Rody retrieved a handful of small, circular devices from his armguard and pressed them against the shaft walls. Activating them, he sent out a sequence of subtle vibrations—each one transmitting a faint sonar pulse throughout the ventilation system.

With this, he could map out the entire network of ducts and find a way inside Oscorp without being detected.

This was just the beginning.