Marvel's Strongest Mage

Sometimes, you had to give credit where it was due.

As much as Daniel disliked him, Justin Hammer wasn't without talent. After all, Hammer Industries had only truly risen after Tony Stark publicly withdrew from the arms industry—yet Hammer seized the opportunity and filled that void with surgical precision. Becoming a top military contractor for the U.S. Department of Defense required more than ambition. It required timing, shamelessness, and an uncanny ability to ride someone else's wave.

And Justin Hammer had all three.

He also had no shame in copying Stark's flash and flair.

The lights dimmed, music thundered, and through a barrage of artificial smoke, Hammer strutted onto the stage in a crisp, tailored suit. With exaggerated tap-dance steps and a smug grin plastered across his face, he greeted a crowd full of corporate titans, investors, and military brass.

Aside from the lack of bikini models flanking the runway, this might as well have been a Tony Stark production.

To be fair, Hammer wanted the girls. But with half the Pentagon seated front row, he had to pretend he took things seriously.

Soon enough, the spotlight shifted. Hammer unveiled his pride and joy: the Steel Soldier initiative—a trio of military-grade drone suits representing land, sea, and air, all standing in perfect formation behind the stage.

And then came the grand reveal.

The War Machine.

Colonel James Rhodes—decked out in next-gen weaponry, looking like a walking fortress—stepped forward under the lights.

The applause was thunderous.

The generals nodded in approval. The investors lit up. Even the press looked dazzled.

Daniel, standing near the edge of the crowd with Justina Hammer and Betty Ross, leaned toward Justina with a whisper. "Your father's not an idiot. Credit where it's due."

Justina frowned. "Why? What's wrong now?"

"You didn't say thank you," Daniel smirked, eyes still on the stage. "That's what most people would say when they're given a compliment."

"That wasn't a compliment," she muttered. "Not from your tone."

Smart girl.

"And besides," she added in a low voice, "he doesn't deserve it."

Daniel didn't press further. She wasn't wrong.

Still, his eyes narrowed on the suits lining the stage. "Do you see it?" he murmured.

"See what?"

"The helmets. They're too small for human pilots. Those things aren't manned. They're drones."

Justina's eyes widened, the lollipop in her mouth suddenly forgotten. "They're machines?"

She nearly shouted, but caught herself.

As a top student at Imperial University, she immediately understood the implications. Military-grade combat AI. No human override. No moral restrictions. A disaster waiting to happen.

Fully autonomous combat drones had been proposed before, but every time the conversation reached the final approval stage, it died. Too many ethical red flags. Too many cyber vulnerabilities.

Hackers could compromise systems like these in seconds.

And yet… here they were.

The truth was, Justin Hammer hadn't built these machines alone. Ivan Vanko—Whiplash—was the silent architect behind them. The real weapon. Hammer was just the face.

But Daniel knew this battle wasn't between Hammer and Stark.

It was Vanko versus Stark.

That didn't matter to Daniel. He was here to study.

He wanted to see what Vanko had created. What could be salvaged. What could be repurposed.

Because no matter how flawed, these Iron Soldiers represented a scalable, cost-effective alternative to Stark's solo armor tech. They were crude. But scalable.

And if Stark lost control of the narrative tonight, Daniel would be there to catch the pieces.

His eyes locked onto the array of drones.

They had no independent intelligence. That was their flaw. Unlike JARVIS, which turned Stark's armor into a living extension of his mind, these bots were dumb weapons—remote-triggered, easily hijacked.

Someone like Stark could easily take control of them in seconds.

They lacked an AI brain. And without one, they were just metal shells waiting to be reprogrammed.

'Still,' Daniel thought, 'the tech isn't without merit. Too dumb to win against Stark. But smart enough to be rebuilt.'

If only Vanko had JARVIS-level AI—or even a primitive mimic of it—these drones might've rivaled Ultron.

But then again… maybe that was a blessing.

The moment the thought crossed Daniel's mind, something shifted in the air.

A sharp ringing pierced the crowd.

High above the Expo dome, a flash of gold and red streaked through the sky like a meteor, trailing heat and light. Seconds later, Iron Man dropped from the heavens and landed on the stage in a perfect three-point stance.

Cheers erupted from every corner of the hall.

Even the generals who openly disliked Stark were forced to applaud when he stood beside Colonel Rhodes and raised their joined hands in the air like tag-team champions.

If Iron Man, War Machine, and Hammer Industries truly teamed up, Daniel thought, the U.S. would become untouchable.

In politics, they already ruled the world.

But they were still playing catch-up in superhuman warfare.

Daniel's eyes narrowed on the glowing triangle at the center of Stark's chest.

'There it is'

The new arc reactor.

Unlike the previous circular design, this triangular core pulsed with pure, untamed energy—created from a synthetic element Stark developed by decoding old schematics from Howard Stark's research on the Tesseract.

Daniel's breath slowed.

This wasn't just a power source. This was the key.

If he could analyze it, replicate it, even partially—

He extended his spiritual awareness subtly, weaving a thin strand of mental energy toward Stark's chest to scan the composition.

And instantly recoiled.

The arc reactor blazed with radiant intensity, pushing his senses back as if scorched by light itself. The amount of raw energy sealed within that core was staggering.

No wonder Stark would one day stand toe-to-toe with Thanos.

This core—this element—was 70% of the reason.

If Daniel could integrate that kind of power into his own system—especially magically—it would change everything.

Even if he couldn't obtain the Cosmc Cube, this would suffice.

But getting it was the problem.

He couldn't just break into Stark's lab. His current illusions only bent light. They didn't erase heat, scent, vibration—any of the things JARVIS would detect instantly.

And even if he did get in… one misstep, and he'd be vaporized.

He needed a workaround.

His thoughts spiraled—Howard Stark, the industrial archives, the blueprints—and suddenly a thread of clarity struck him like lightning.

There might be another way.

But before he could pursue it, a ripple of shouting erupted across the venue floor.

Justina, beside him, tensed. "Something's wrong."

She was looking toward the main stage, where Stark and her father were exchanging words—heated ones.

And then it happened.

Colonel Rhodes' War Machine armor powered up on its own. Weapons deployed. Shoulder cannons clicked into place.

The Iron Soldiers behind him followed suit. Every drone lifted its arm. Guns locked onto Stark.

Then shifted toward the audience.

No one moved.

The generals felt it first—a rising sense of dread. Before they could stand, the entire front row exploded into shouts.

And then—

Gunfire.

Daniel acted instantly.

Stark shot into the sky, drawing fire upward, giving the crowd a chance to run—but bullets sprayed everywhere, smashing reinforced glass, turning the expo hall into a warzone.

"Don't move! Stay with me!" Daniel grabbed Justina as she lunged toward the stage.

"You'll only make things worse! Stay behind me!"

He didn't wait for an answer. His arm wrapped around Betty, dragging both women back toward the exit.

Glass rained. Sparks flew.

Drones opened fire without discrimination, tearing into walls, banners, and columns.

But Daniel moved like a shadow. In the chaos, no one saw how easily he navigated the carnage. No one noticed the subtle wind around him as spells bent light, air, and trajectory.

He was already guiding them out.

In seconds, they reached the edge of the hall.

Just as they escaped, Daniel spotted Justin Hammer barreling toward the backstage exits—pursued by none other than Pepper Potts, her face tight with fury.

And flanking her, in black leather and twin batons—

Natasha Romanoff.

The Black Widow.

It was Daniel's first time seeing her in this timeline, but he knew her history. She wasn't just an assassin. During the Second World War, she'd worked with Daniel himself—though back then, she'd been little more than a girl.

However, now, she was a legend.

Daniel moved fast, pushing Betty and Justina toward the car waiting outside.

"Go," he told them. "Don't stop. Get somewhere safe."

"What about you?" Justina asked, breathless.

"I'm not done."

And just like that, Daniel vanished into the smoke and screams—his silhouette dissolving into the chaos as the battle for Stark Expo raged on.