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Thanks for the support , Zengouon ,Marcus Edvardsson, Wildvoid , Cameron Doyle.
After securing his extended leave of absence from both Principal Angus and a slightly bemused Aunt May, Aidan Parker packed a single, durable duffel bag. His journey took him out of the familiar, bustling streets of Queens and into the shimmering heat haze of the desert. The bus left him on a lonely stretch of highway, where a sleek black car was already waiting. In front of it stood a woman in sharp business attire, her posture stiff with impatience.
The Tandar Experimental Technology facility was not a gleaming tower, but a low-slung, concrete bunker squatting under the vast, empty sky.
"Hello," Aidan said, approaching the woman with his bag slung over his shoulder. "I'm here for the lab keys."
The woman, Wendy, gave him a suspicious, once-over. "You're the one renting the laboratory?" She had been expecting a university research team, or at least a graduate student. The boy in front of her looked like he should be worrying about prom dates, not advanced weapons research.
"Yes. Principal Angus of Midtown High recommended the site," Aidan said with a polite smile, holding out his hand. "The payment has been transferred to your boss. The keys, please?"
"Oh. Of course, my apologies," she said, flustered, quickly unclipping a heavy keycard from a lanyard around her neck. "If you could just show me the signed contract, for my records."
"Here you are," Aidan said, taking the keycard and handing her a folder from his backpack.
She took it with a practiced smile, her professionalism returning as she scanned the document. Her eyes widened slightly as she saw the signature at the bottom. "...Aidan Parker?" She looked up, the name clicking into place with a jolt of recognition. "The Aidan Parker? From Midtown High?"
"The one and only," Aidan said, his patience wearing thin. The view of the surrounding desert was impressive, but it wasn't why he was here. "May I go in now?"
"Yes! Sorry! My name is Wendy," she said, her composure completely broken. "I'm the assistant your benefactor assigned to this project. This is my contact information. If you need anything at all, please call me." She handed him a business card.
Aidan glanced at her, then took a long, folded list from his bag. "Since you're my assistant, you can start by purchasing the materials and equipment on this list." He handed it to her. It wasn't a request; it was a directive. "These are time-sensitive. I need them procured as soon as possible."
"Oh... well, of course," Wendy stammered, taken aback by the immediate workload.
Without another word, Aidan swiped the keycard. The heavy steel door hissed open, and he stepped inside, leaving her standing in the desert sun with a list that looked impossibly long.
The interior was cool and cavernous. His footsteps echoed in the vast, empty space. The living quarters were spartan but clean. He walked through them into the main laboratory. It was magnificent. The floors were polished concrete, smooth as glass. The walls were lined with reinforced, explosion-proof observation windows looking out onto a private, scorched-earth firing range dotted with metal targets. The lab itself was mostly empty space, a blank canvas waiting for him. He hit a master switch, and rows of powerful incandescent lights flickered on, banishing the dimness. It was perfect.
He spent the rest of the day in a flurry of activity, unboxing his personal equipment and debugging the lab's core systems. That evening, Wendy returned, followed by a crew of workers who began unloading a truck of basic supplies.
She found him in the living area, looking over a schematic on a tablet. "Mr. Parker," she began, holding a checklist. "Most of the materials you requested can be delivered within three days. However, several of the larger, more specialized instruments are a problem."
Aidan looked up. "A problem how?"
"They are extremely rare, custom-built pieces," she explained, clearly helpless. "There are only one or two of each in the entire state. They are currently rented out. We would have to wait for the contracts to expire, which could take a week, maybe longer."
"Who has them?" Aidan asked, his voice calm.
Wendy consulted her list. "Well… a plasma arc furnace is at Hammer Industries. The quantum spectrometer is being used by a 'Torta Labs'. And the primary particle synthesizer is at an Oscorp facility."
"I see," Aidan said, nodding slowly. He pulled out his phone, his thumb scrolling through his contacts. "Let me solve this."
He found the number he was looking for: John Mullin, Hammer Industries. He tapped the screen. Wendy watched, perplexed, as he put the phone to his ear.
"Hello?" a voice barked on the other end.
"Mr. Mullin, a pleasure to speak with you again. It's Aidan Parker."
The tone on the other end shifted instantly from aggressive to enthusiastic. "Aidan! My boy! Have you reconsidered my offer? The doors at Hammer Industries are always open for you, you know. The conditions still stand."
"Perhaps when I graduate, Mr. Mullin," Aidan said politely. "But I'm calling today to ask for a small favor. I'm conducting some research, and I find I'm in need of a plasma arc furnace. The one I wish to rent is currently in your possession. If you aren't in urgent need of it, I was hoping you might allow me to borrow it for a while. I will, of course, cover all rental and transport fees."
"No, no, no problem at all!" Mullin boomed. "Consider it done! I'll have my people send it over tomorrow. Anything for a future star of the industry!"
"Thank you, Mr. Mullin. You're too kind. By any chance, do you have a contact for Torta Labs?"
After a few more calls, made with the same unnerving calm and authority, it was done. Wendy stared at him, her admiration undisguised. She had come here expecting to assist a child prodigy. She was beginning to realize she was working for a king who moved corporations like pieces on a chessboard. So young, she thought with a sigh of regret. Why couldn't I be a few years younger?
"Alright," Aidan said, pocketing his phone and letting out a long breath. "You can go home and wait for the deliveries. It's late. Thank you for your hard work today." He turned and walked back into the lab, leaving her to ponder the strange new reality she had stepped into.
Within three days, as promised, the laboratory was filled to the brim with every instrument and raw material he had requested. Now, with the tools in place, the venue secure, and the world held at arm's length, Aidan Parker finally began to create.
He unrolled a large design schematic across a workbench. On it was a drawing of breathtaking elegance. It was a humanoid figure, but sleeker and more streamlined than Firebrand. From its back unfurled a pair of massive, multi-jointed wings, crafted not for atmospheric flight, but for the vacuum of space. It looked like a mechanical angel.
The laboratory fire flickered to life. The whine of high-speed drills echoed in the vast chamber. And Aidan Parker, entirely focused, began his work.
Miles away, in a luxurious, top-floor office, Obadiah Stane looked down at a document in his hand. On its cover was the subtle, unmistakable logo of the Ten Rings terrorist organization. He traced the symbol with his thumb, a ferocious, predatory smile spreading across his face. After a long moment of silence, he picked up his phone and made a call.
And in another part of the world, Tony Stark, oblivious, raised a champagne glass at a lavish banquet, a beautiful starlet on his arm. The danger was approaching, a shadow falling over his gilded life, ready to herald the true beginning of the age of Marvels.
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