Unknownfate
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Chapter 87
🕑 Added 2025-04-05 13:32:43 +0000 UTCI didn’t flinch at his sarcasm.
“I’m afraid I have little to do with the afterlife, so I can’t offer such a thing… In fact, I doubt there is much of one, at most I could offer to ensure the lords of hell don’t get your soul,” I replied with a smile.
“Wait? Lords of hell? Like… hell is real?” He asked now once more, totally serious.
“It's another of those dimensions we discussed, one that has traits like suffering, dread, fear, and similar qualities. And have grown to the point they can forcefully claim some souls from earth, if they are tainted enough.” I explained.
“But, what about those mages? Shouldn’t they stop that?” Tony sounded concerned.
“It’s not that easy, those dimensions are very powerful, enough that they could fully attack earth, and try to drag all souls in, killing humanity itself, so to keep that from happening, a deal have been struck, they get a slow trickle of souls, and they don’t try to get more.”
Tony was smart enough that he could understand it when I put it in terms he could understand. “So because they get something, without risk, they won’t take the risk, because if they attempt to get more, they might risk failing, which will give them nothing?”
“Correct,” I replied calmly. “But we are getting off topic once again.”
Tony exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. “Right. Magical Goddess wanting to buy the world’s most advanced technology. So, you're offering me a chance to skip hell?”
“I don’t believe your soul is heading for hell, whatever else might await, I know not, but at least I don’t believe you deserve the eternal suffering of hell.” I admitted.
He might not be a good person, but he was on his way there, someone like him, who could just drown himself in sin and excess, but put his life and all he had on the line for others, expecting nothing in return. That didn’t sound like a true sinner to me.
He was no angel, but he wasn’t a devil either; he was just human, and that was all he needed to be.
“Damn, gotta admit, most woman ends up cursing me to go to hell soon enough.” He said with a cocky grin on his face.
Yet I could see that he was relieved, learning that hell was real, that would surely do something to people, make them question themselves, so I had no doubt that he only appeared calm on the outside.
“Yes, I’m sure I can understand why, but I feel our partings won’t be like theirs.”
Tony set his glass down with a soft clink and leaned forward, fingers steepled. “Alright then, no damnation package, no afterlife coupons. So let’s talk business. You said you wanted my Arc Reactor tech. Infinite energy for your kingdom. That’s not small talk, lady.”
“I’m aware,” I said. “Which is why I’m not demanding it. I’m offering something in return.”
He tilted his head, curiosity piqued again. “Okay. Let’s hear it. What’s in the god-tier gift bag?”
“I will remove the shrapnel from your chest—completely. With no surgery, no pain. I will purge the palladium poisoning from your blood, and I will restore your health to what it was before your capture.”
Tony blinked, and just for a moment, the mask slipped.
“You’re serious.”
“Entirely.”
His voice came quieter now. “When I got back, I did ask around, if anyone could solve this issue, but it was very risky, so I gave up. I mean, I had a solution already, didn’t I?” he gave the reactor in his chest, a small tap.
“Yet, now that too is slowly killing me, leaving me with no way of living. But, given you are apparently a god, I guess it’s simple enough for you eh?”
“I can heal all wounds, but what I can’t do is change the laws of the world. I can’t make Palladium safe, so if you continue to use it, you will still die.”
Tony let out a breath—shaky, bitter, laced with a touch of dry amusement.
“Yeah… figures. Even gods have limits.”
He looked down at his chest, fingers grazing the arc reactor like it was something sacred and damned all at once.
“I built this in a cave, with a box of scraps. It saved my life. It made my life. But now... it’s just killing me slower.”
“You could stop using it, that would save your life. But you know that already, and you won’t.” I said, and a silence fell over us as he accepted my words.
Tony didn’t argue. Didn’t crack a joke.
He just continued to stare at the reactor, that dull, familiar glow humming in his chest. It was his cage and his crown—both punishment and proof of survival.
“I can’t stop,” he said finally, voice low. “Not yet. Not when there’s still work to do.”
I nodded. “Which is why I’m offering you a way forward. I will heal your body, clear your blood, and remove the fragments inching closer to your heart. And I will help you replace palladium with something else, because I won’t let poison power my nation.”
Tony’s head snapped up. His eyes locked on mine, sharp and searching.
“There’s a replacement?” he asked, the words slow, disbelieving—like he was afraid to speak too loud and scare the idea away.
“Yes,” I said simply.
He let out a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. “I’ve combed every periodic table, every theoretical alloy, every lab I have access to. I’ve simulated compounds that don’t even exist yet. And I found nothing, I would never have expected that it would take literal divine intervention to find the answer.”
I let the silence hang for a moment, then offered a small, knowing smile.
“You’re not wrong. Divine intervention did play a part. Though perhaps not from the god you expected.”
Tony raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me Zeus left a blueprint under Mount Olympus.”
“No,” I said softly. “Odin.”
He blinked. Once. Twice. “...You’re serious.”
I nodded.
“Your father’s research into the Arc Reactor began after his involvement with a certain object left on Earth. The Tesseract. A fragment of something far older, far greater. Odin left it here on earth, where none would be able to use this artifact. Clearly, he didn’t take the Stark family into account.”
Tony narrowed his eyes. “My father? If he made something like that, why isn’t it known? And why would you know?”
“Your father was smart, but he is no god, he could only do so much, he could dream of it, imagine it, but he couldn’t build it.” I started.
“Your father used the treasure of Odin to create a synthetic element, one that, to a small extent, mimics the properties of the treasure —an amazing feat, indeed. But he lacked the ability to make it real, so he could only leave a blueprint.”
Tony stared at me, mouth slightly open, but no words came out. Not right away.
“You’re saying,” he began slowly, hands moving vaguely in the air like he was sculpting the idea into something real, “that my father… designed an element based on some ancient treasure left here by a literal god, but couldn’t make it, so he just—what? Stashed it in a box and hoped I’d figure it out someday?”
“I doubt he just hoped you would, I’m sure he expected you would do it. But he likely didn’t expect to die, so maybe he planned on doing it with you, maybe as the first major project you two would do together.”
At that point, I was just making things up, but who knows? Perhaps a big project was something that could bring together two stubborn but brilliant men and, through that, help them overcome their differences.
Tony didn’t say anything for a long moment. He just sat there, thinking. He still hadn’t forgiven his father, so he likely didn’t want to believe anything good about the man, but neither would he deny my words without thought.
“But, I have seen nothing like this blueprint, and I have looked over what half-finished stuff he left behind, and I naturally completed most of it.” he said, with a hint of pride in his voice.
“I am asking for a lot here, Stark, I ask for infinite energy, a generator without limit, and an element with near godly properties which can change the fate of countless people forever, oil, coal, and gas will become worthless, tell me, if someone knew about this… would they share it?”
Tony didn’t answer right away. He leaned back slowly, like the weight of the question had physically pushed him into the cushions.
His eyes narrowed. Not in anger—no, in calculation. Deep thought. The kind of thinking that didn’t just weigh facts, but consequences. History. Greed. War.
“…No,” he said finally. “No, they wouldn’t.”
His voice was quiet now, low and steady. “If someone found a miracle element—something that could power the world and unmake every oil empire overnight—they wouldn’t publish it. They’d bury it. Weaponize it. Use it as leverage. Lock it behind twenty feet of steel and call it ‘national security.’”
With the example of a man, he considered a trusted uncle turning against him out of greed, then who wouldn’t? Who could be trusted? So yes, it was likely someone had found his father’s work, and understood its value, they would have hidden it, stolen it.
“Do you know who did it?” He asked.
“Yes, your father is the founder of a large intelligence organization. He did a lot of his work there. With his death… it is highly likely they would keep some of it, for, what did you call it? National security?”
He glanced at me, eyes sharp. “So if you’re offering more than riddles and divine name-dropping… now’s the time.”
I could see he was getting serious, and had no intention of dragging things out further. “I know who has it, but we won’t need his notes, your father ensured that if you knew where to look, it couldn’t be stolen.”
“The model for his imagined Stark Expo is the molecular blueprint; I’m sure you can find a usable picture or model somewhere.” I revealed what he would learn from SHIELD’s gift, and earn his favour, now I would take that goodwill instead.
Tony’s brows furrowed as he digested that. Then, slowly, like gears turning in his mind, he muttered, “The Expo model…? That ridiculous city layout Dad kept obsessing over?”
He stood, pacing now, half-talking to himself. “I thought it was just a vanity project. A way to sell more technology and slap his name on everything. But you’re telling me… the molecular structure is hidden in that?” He paused, eyes narrowing. “He left it out in the open.”
I nodded. “In plain sight. Where only someone who shared his mind could see it.”
Tony let out a dry, almost bitter laugh. “Figures. Cryptic to the end.”
He walked toward the shelf, running a hand over a dusty model car, then looked over his shoulder at me.
“You’re either the best liar I’ve ever met… or you’re right. And if you’re right…” His voice dropped, suddenly softer, more vulnerable. “Then he believed in me. Enough to trust me with something world-changing.”
His hand clenched into a fist.
“So? Do we have a deal? I will heal you, remove the bomb in your chest, so that if you keep that thing there.” I pointed at his reactor. It will truly be your choice alone, and in return, you will provide me with the data and everyone involved in the large reactor and the new element. I have no need for the small one, nor do I need you to slave away to make what I want.
Tony was silent, then slowly turned to face me fully. His expression was unreadable—somewhere between guarded calculation and raw, exposed trust.
“Alright, I will give you want you want, you have earned it, and honestly, if I don’t give it, I’m not sure what will happen, and I’m not about to try you. But promise me, don’t use this for military use.” He said.
I nodded. “Agreed. I want a light to guide my people, not a sword to cut down my enemies.”
His lips twitched at that. “So, how does healing magic work? I’m curious.”
Tony’s curiosity was expected. Of course it was. He masked his pain with snark, but there was wonder behind the words now—a flicker of hope. So I gave him the truth.
“It’s not magic, not in the way you think of it,” I said, stepping forward. “I’m not much of a mage, so for something as difficult as healing, I’m going to cheat.”
Tony arched an eyebrow, amused. “Cheat? That’s reassuring.”
I smiled faintly. “Not the kind you’re thinking of.”
I raised my hand to my side, just below the ribs. The air shimmered as I reached into my own soul and pulled.
Light bloomed. Soft. Golden. Endless.
From my palm unfolded a sheath—not leather or steel, but a relic of dreams itself, one as old as life itself, the dream of all dreams, the desire of everyone and all things.
“This is Avalon,” I said quietly. “The scabbard of Excalibur. The Everdistant Utopia. So long as one possesses it, their body shall not decay. No wound shall be mortal. No corruption shall remain.”
I knew he wouldn’t understand just how impressive that was, but it didn’t matter. Without a word, I pushed the end of Avalon against him, much like Loki would one day poke him with a sceptre.
Tony’s quip died on his lips as the golden light touched his chest.
There was no pain. No explosion. No dramatic sound.
Just stillness.
Avalon’s light spread across his torso in smooth, radiant waves—flowing like water, burning like sunlight, but warm, gentle, clean. The glow passed through his shirt, his flesh, his bones, sinking into the very structure of his being.
Tony’s breath caught. He didn’t cry out, but I saw his fingers twitch, his jaw tense. His eyes widened, blinking against something he could not see, only feel.
I watched Avalon do its work.
First, the shrapnel—tiny barbs of death hovering millimeters from his heart. They dissolved into stardust, lifted away like fog under the dawn's light.
Then the palladium, that silent poison threading through his bloodstream. It vanished with the same quiet grace, as if the light were rewriting him, stripping out the rot, the corruption, the pain.
Scars faded.
The sickness was gone.
His skin flushed with renewed color, as though youth itself were returning to his cells. For the first time in years, his body was whole. Unburdened. Free.
And through it all, Avalon hummed softly—a note of eternity, of peace, of paradise.
When it was done, I pulled the sheath back. The light receded. The air fell still again.
Tony staggered a half step, catching himself on the arm of the couch. He looked down at his chest, then up at me, breath shaky but eyes bright.
“Damn… that was… something.” He was clearly struggling to find the right words, and I couldn’t blame him. Because Avalon was something that could leave anyone speechless.
“JARVIS, can you check me over?” He asked, and while it was disrespectful to do so while I was there, I could understand his thinking, or rather, his lack of it.
He treasured his life in his own little way. He wasn’t truly afraid of death, only failure. This made him reckless, but never foolish.
(End of chapter)
So, there we have it, Tony is healed, and informed about some things. He is a bit wiser, and likely to do things differently now. One thing I never liked was the foolish stuff he did when he thought he was dying.
Who gives priceless art to Boy Scouts? What are they supposed to do with it? Target practice?
So, we're going to skip that.
And Avalon was showcased, a powerful relic that would essentially grant Arthuria immortality. The 4th and 5th Holy grail wars would have gone very different if those two idiot masters had just given her that damned scabbard.
