Marvel: Tony Stark's Journey in the Omniverse

Hello, happy Sunday. here is your chapter! Powerstones have reset guys so now is the time to throw stones my way! That way the novel is more visible and it can be shared with a wider audience so more people can enjoy it like you guys. I'd like to thank Meet_Dutta, Kaiser_Kaier, Jandher, ASURA69s, Ramon_Hill and Rex_of_dreams for their powerstones.

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Tony Stark materialized in the heart of Cairo with the whisper of displaced air. His teleportation left no bright flashes, no resounding booms—just a momentary ripple in space. The city pulsed around him, ancient and modern clashing in a symphony of voices, markets, and distant calls to prayer. But beneath that, a darker presence slithered through the streets. He could feel it—an overwhelming psychic aura that choked the air, like oil spreading over water.

He wasn't alone.

Focusing, he extended his telepathic senses outward, searching. Through the haze of thousands of minds, one shone like lightning trapped in a bottle. A storm wrapped in human flesh.

There you are.

His boots barely scuffed the cobbled street as he moved, his psychic trail leading him deeper into the alleys of the old city. The deeper he went, the stronger the presence became. Until he found her.

Ororo Munroe—Storm.

She stood near a crumbling stone structure, draped in garments that barely concealed the raw power humming beneath her skin. Silver-white hair cascaded down her back, her piercing white eyes flicking toward him the moment he approached. No fear. No surprise. She had felt him coming.

"I know who you are," she said, voice smooth as rolling thunder on the horizon. "And I know why you're here."

Tony arched a brow. "Mind reading isn't your specialty."

"No," she admitted. "But I can feel the wind shifting."

He stepped closer, hands in his pockets. "Then you also know what I'm going to ask."

Her expression darkened. "I can't leave."

"Because of him?" Tony's tone was light, but his mind was already pushing past the barriers of her consciousness, searching for the force that bound her here.

And then he felt it.

An abyss. A yawning, festering wound in the astral plane, coiled around Storm's soul like barbed wire. Tony took a slow breath. He had expected something powerful, but this…

"I see now," he murmured. "The Shadow King."

Storm's eyes flickered with something close to pain. "He won't let me go."

Tony smirked. "He doesn't have a choice."

Amahl Farouk was a legend in Cairo. To the common thief, he was the King of Thieves, a crime lord whose hands stretched into every pocket. But to those who truly knew, he was something much worse.

He was the Shadow King.

A manifestation of the dark side of human consciousness, a predator that had existed since the first nightmare. He had no true body, only a host—Farouk was merely the latest in a long line of stolen skins. And he ruled Cairo's underworld with an iron grip, feeding on the minds of those who crossed him.

Tony didn't bother knocking.

The entrance to Farouk's lair was hidden beneath the ruins of an old temple, a den of opulence masked in ancient stone. The moment Tony stepped inside, the shadows seemed to thicken, whispering, shifting. And then the laughter began.

Deep. Hollow. Echoing from every direction.

"So, the prodigal son arrives," came a voice, amused, unhurried. The air itself seemed to twist as Amahl Farouk materialized, his massive form settling onto a golden throne. "Tony Stark?"

Tony frowned. "So you've been keeping tabs on me. Cute."

Farouk grinned. "You are a curiosity. A mind that does not obey the laws of this universe. That makes you dangerous."

Tony's eyes flicked toward the shadows at the edges of the room. "Let Ororo go."

Farouk laughed, the sound reverberating unnaturally. "You think you can waltz in here and demand things of me?"

Tony smirked. "Yeah. That's kind of my thing."

Farouk's eyes flared, the shadows rushing forward—

—only to be blasted apart by a crimson burst of psionic energy.

Exodus stepped from the darkness, his presence a radiant force of sheer power. The air crackled around him, his golden armor gleaming in the dim light. He was a warrior of faith, a crusader, and tonight, he was Tony's weapon.

"I knew you'd show," Tony quipped.

Exodus didn't smile. His eyes were locked on the Shadow King. "You do not belong in this world, parasite."

Farouk scowled. "You would stand against me, Exodus?"

"I stand above you."

And then, the fight began.

Dark tendrils erupted from the walls, seeking minds to consume. Tony activated his psionic shields just in time, pushing back the encroaching darkness. Exodus launched forward like a bullet, his telekinetic energy clashing with Farouk's own twisted might.

Blades of thought met shields of faith. The temple trembled under the sheer force of their battle, dust and debris cascading from the ceiling as psionic storms ripped through the air. Tony focused, weaving his way through the mental onslaught, striking at the core of Farouk's consciousness.

But Farouk was old.

He had devoured minds for centuries, sculpting his power from the nightmares of kings and beggars alike. He lashed out, ripping through the astral plane, dragging Tony into the depths of his domain.

Tony hit the ground hard. Except there was no ground. Only an endless void, swirling with shadows and whispers.

"Welcome," Farouk's voice echoed, layered with a thousand others. "To my world."

Tony exhaled, his mind adjusting. "Not my first trip to the astral plane, buddy."

Farouk sneered. "Then you should know that here, I am God."

The shadows coiled, forming monstrous figures, fanged and clawed, their eyes hollow pools of suffering. Tony cracked his knuckles.

"Cute. I've fought worse."

He reached into his mind, pulling forth a spark—an idea, a weapon forged of pure will. Energy surged around him, shaping into something sleek, deadly. A mental construct of his Iron Man armor materialized around him, glowing with psychic light.

Farouk's expression flickered. "What—"

Tony grinned. "You're not the only one who can shape reality, pal."

He fired.

The blast was pure force of will, cutting through the darkness like a blade of light. The astral constructs screamed as they dissolved, and for the first time, Farouk staggered.

Exodus' presence crashed into the void, his power amplifying Tony's own. Together, they pushed, ripping through the Shadow King's defenses, tearing apart the chains that bound Storm.

Farouk howled. "You cannot destroy me!"

Tony smirked. "Maybe not. But we can make you run."

The final blow sent Farouk reeling, his essence unraveling into a whirlwind of darkness. With one last snarl, he vanished, retreating into the farthest reaches of the astral plane.

The temple was silent.

Tony adjusted his collar. "Well. That was dramatic."

Exodus exhaled. "It is done."

Storm, freed at last, stepped forward, her presence radiant. "You have my thanks."

Tony smirked. "Good. Now let's get out of here. We've got a nation to build."

With that, they teleported away—back home.