Marvel's Iron Lady

"Happy, I told you to keep her safe! Is this what you call keeping her safe?!"

Obadiah Stane, with his thin mustache and gold-rimmed glasses, stormed over, yelling in fury. Stane, the current acting CEO of Stark Industries and Howard Stark's former right-hand man, now resembled a furious father seeing his daughter hurt.

Grabbing Happy Hogan by the collar, Stane's roar attracted the attention of the surrounding crowd.

Stark Industries' inner family drama in public? The media swarmed again, like sharks smelling blood, eager to capture every moment of this spectacle.

"It wasn't his fault; I insisted on going out alone for business reasons," Miss Stark quickly interjected, unwilling to let her head of security take the blame.

"Uh, it looks like you guys are busy. I just remembered I have something important to do. I'll be going now," Peter Parker mumbled as he awkwardly excused himself. He realized he was still late for his meeting with Dr. Olivia Octavius, his doctoral advisor. The last thing he wanted was to get caught in the middle of Stark Industries' family disputes.

Obadiah noticed the reporters swarming in and quickly decided that this wasn't the place for a family argument.

"We'll talk about this later. Get in the car—we're leaving," he ordered, pulling open the door of the Cadillac and ushering Stark into the backseat.

"Do you even know how many complaints I've had from the board about your behavior these past few months?" Obadiah's voice dropped to a quieter, but no less stern, tone as he slid into the car beside her.

The vehicle's rear compartment was soundproof, making sure the driver couldn't hear a thing. Stark's bodyguard team, driving black Lexus SUVs, surrounded the Cadillac as it smoothly pulled away from the scene.

Facing Obadiah Stane, the man who had been both a father figure and business mentor after her parents' deaths, Stark felt conflicted. He had been Howard Stark's most trusted ally, someone with whom she shared a deep personal bond.

Yet, in the fragmented memories she had from an alternate universe, this very man had once betrayed her—well, a male version of her. Stark wasn't sure if this Obadiah would ever go to the same lengths, but she remained cautious, unsure of how to handle the situation.

With no better option, Stark chose to adopt a vulnerable posture, playing the part of a helpless niece.

"I was pulled from the company's headquarters when this all went down. I came straight here," Obadiah said, his voice slightly softening. "The board is using this incident as an excuse to challenge your eligibility to inherit the company."

"If it weren't for me standing in the way, you'd be looking at another two years before you could even touch Stark Industries," he added, shaking his head slightly.

After a moment of silence, he sighed. "When we get back to headquarters, I'll deal with the board and try to smooth things over. I've arranged for a plane to take you to your grandparents' place. Congratulations, you're grounded."

Obadiah's voice carried a mix of frustration and genuine concern. "I'll calm this situation down as quickly as possible, but please, just stay in Hawaii and out of trouble."

While Stark was being driven back to Stark Industries headquarters in Washington, Peter had already slipped out of his battered Spider-Man suit and changed back into his regular clothes. Minutes earlier, he had snuck back to the lab where he worked in Brooklyn.

The lab, tucked away on the second floor of a nondescript building in the bustling commercial district of Brooklyn, was funded by the city of New York and Peter's alma mater, Empire State University. After graduating, MJ had gone on to become a journalist, while Peter pursued further research under the guidance of his PhD advisor, Dr. Olivia Octavius.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Doctor. I was—uh—held up. Wait... Doctor?" Peter paused, momentarily confused by the scene before him.

In the middle of the lab stood a woman wearing a white lab coat, smiling at him. It was Dr. Olivia Octavius, a renowned expert in mechanics and Peter's doctoral advisor.

She was demonstrating a large steel harness attached to her waist, with mechanical appendages extending from a backpack-like device on her back. The setup looked cumbersome, yet she seemed entirely at ease with it.

Dr. Octavius noticed Peter's bewildered look and waved with her left arm. In response, one of the mechanical arms mimicked her motion, as if it were an extension of her own body.

"Doctor Octavius, you started the demonstration without me?" Peter asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice.

"The budget committee will be here soon, Peter. I need to show them our progress," Dr. Octavius replied with a calm, reassuring smile.

But just as Peter approached, one of the energy conduits attached to the apparatus crackled, spitting out sparks.

"The energy limiter has overloaded. Maybe the output was too high?" she muttered to herself, deep in thought.

Peter rushed over and immediately flipped the limiter's switch, though it was already too late to prevent the overload. The current had surged beyond control, and sparks from the overloaded circuits landed on Dr. Octavius, singeing her hair.

"Dammit! Hold on, Doctor, I'm cutting the power!" Peter shouted. He heard her groan in pain, and without hesitation, he pulled the emergency shutoff lever and yanked the device off her back.

Though Dr. Octavius collapsed into Peter's arms, her expression remained pained but composed. The expensive control chips had melted from the overload, rendering the entire apparatus useless.

"Hey, Olivia, are you alright? You need me to help you sit down?" Peter asked, concerned for her well-being.

"I'll be fine, Peter. Just... let me sit for a moment. We've failed again," she replied, her voice heavy with disappointment.

Despite the pain in her body, the true weight she bore was the growing uncertainty about their project. The lab, funded by the New York City government, was meant to be a self-sustaining research project. But without results, the city was getting restless.

Their funding was nearly exhausted, and at this rate, Dr. Octavius wouldn't even be able to pay Peter's salary. The budget committee, who was about to arrive, had already expressed doubts about the project's viability. Dr. Octavius had hoped to use today's demonstration to sway their opinion, but now, with the equipment ruined, there was little hope left.

At that moment, three unwelcome guests arrived—the members of the budget committee. Leading the group was a sharp-looking woman with short hair, followed by two financial analysts. They walked into the lab, stopping abruptly when they saw the state of the lab.

"What happened here? Was there an accident? Is anyone hurt?" the woman asked, her face tightening with concern. As a government official responsible for managing funding, the last thing she wanted was for a city-backed project to result in injuries or accidents.

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