Marvel : Endless Power

This trip had been intense, and Rody, drained both physically and mentally, collapsed onto the bed as soon as he returned to the Stark estate. When he finally woke up at nine in the evening, his stomach growled in protest—he hadn't eaten for nearly a day.

Tony still wasn't back, and where there was Tony, Pepper Potts was bound to follow. As advanced as J.A.R.V.I.S. was, culinary skills weren't part of his programming. With only the ability to boil water, Rody found himself at an impasse.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., can you order me some takeout?" Rody asked, hopeful.

"Apologies, Mr. Rody, but this location is too remote. Most delivery services do not extend to this area," the AI responded.

Rody sighed in frustration and scoured the kitchen. There was plenty of fresh produce, but his cooking skills were on par with a college freshman surviving on ramen. Snacks? Not a single bag of chips or a stale cookie in sight.

"Guess Pepper's got Tony eating clean," Rody muttered. "No junk food? That woman is relentless."

Resigned, he grabbed a set of keys and picked a different sports car from Stark's collection, swapping his clothes and styling his hair differently. He had no desire to deal with another ambush.

He chose the Hilton Hotel for dinner—not out of luxury, but because the five-star security meant it would be harder for an assassin to slip inside unnoticed. As he walked through the doors, he noticed something strange.

The hotel staff was ignoring him.

At first, he thought it was just a rude waiter, but as he moved through the lobby, it became clear that no one acknowledged his presence. It wasn't a case of subtle snubbing—people simply didn't see him.

Frowning, Rody waved his hand in front of a receptionist's face. No reaction. He checked his reflection in a nearby mirror and felt his stomach drop—there was no reflection staring back at him.

Panic rose in his chest, but his analytical mind took over. Closing his eyes, he focused his mental energy and scanned himself the way he had scanned the bearded assassin earlier. A faint red aura surrounded his body—just like the killer he had defeated.

"This must have happened after I woke up," Rody muttered, mind racing. "Did I absorb his ability? No, that doesn't make sense. But... could his blood have done something?"

It was a mystery for later. Right now, he had an opportunity to test his newfound stealth. He entered the kitchen, unseen, and emerged ten minutes later.

"Who the hell stole my Kobe steak?!" The chef's furious roar echoed behind him.

Rody smirked as he walked back to his car, still processing the situation. His entire body and clothing vanished within the red aura. Anything enveloped in it turned invisible. But the process was far from perfect—controlling the effect was sluggish. Becoming visible again took about ten seconds, but fading into invisibility required nearly a full minute. Not exactly ideal for combat.

Back at the villa, Rody experimented in front of a mirror. His ability wasn't true invisibility—it was an advanced light-bending camouflage, similar to what S.H.I.E.L.D. used in stealth technology. But unlike Tony's tech-based solutions, Rody's power functioned on a biological level, likely tied to his brain's control over energy fields.

He extended his hidden blade, watching as the red aura failed to conceal it. Concentrating harder, he forced the field to expand. After thirty minutes of exhausting trial and error, he finally managed to cloak the blade completely.

"Progress," he muttered, sweating. But it was clear—if he wanted to use this in combat, he needed instant activation, not a full minute of preparation.

Exhausted, he collapsed into bed, forgetting to shower.

---

The Next Day

"Mr. Rody, Mr. Stark is waiting in the lab," J.A.R.V.I.S. announced, waking him up.

"Ugh, Tony, at least let me eat first," Rody grumbled, stomach already protesting.

"There are sandwiches on the table. You may start as soon as you finish," Tony's voice carried from the lab.

Shaking his head, Rody wolfed down the food and joined Tony, who was deep in calculations.

"The key is palladium purification and stabilizing the electrical output of the reactor," Tony explained, equations scrawled across holographic screens.

Rody listened carefully, occasionally offering insights.

"Wait," he said, narrowing his eyes at the data. "If we run it like this, won't the reactor start producing toxins? Wearing the armor long-term could lead to palladium poisoning."

Tony frowned. "That's only if you wear it twenty-four-seven. It's not like I sleep in the suit."

Rody hesitated. He knew the future—Tony's chest would be the site of a miniature Arc Reactor, and that poisoning wouldn't be theoretical. But if he told Tony that now, he'd be labeled insane or worse—dragged to a psych eval at S.H.I.E.L.D.

Before Rody could respond, Tony switched gears.

"Anyway, I'm heading out of town in a few days, so we need to finish the mini-reactor design before then."

Rody's instincts flared. "Wait, where are you going?"

"Military demo. Iraq and Afghanistan. Just a quick trip, shouldn't take more than a week."

Rody stiffened. This was it. The trip where Tony gets captured. Where Iron Man is truly born.

A bad feeling settled in his gut.

This was the beginning of everything.