"Tony Stark, it's Maya Hansen. We t once in Switzerland… and I'm… the designer of the Extremis virus. Now, I've got two bad news items. First, I might be about to die. Second, the Extremis virus… is missing."
Her voice ca through the lab speakers—urgent, breathless, almost desperate. The mont Stark heard the words Extremis virus, he snapped upright in his chair. Those four words hit a nerve deep inside him.
Maya Hansen—a brilliant genetic biologist specializing in gene sequence recombination. Years ago, she'd shared a morable night with Tony Stark in Switzerland. And on that very night, an idea—a devil—took root in the mind of Aldrich Killian.
Later, Maya joined Killian's Advanced Idea chanics, helping him develop the Extremis virus and create Extremis soldiers. But after Killian and AIM collapsed, a new employer saw the virus's potential and recruited her to continue refining it. Recently, Maya discovered her new boss intended to sell Extremis to so very dangerous people. That's when she decided to break away, to find soone who could end this nightmare.
That soone… was Iron Man.
Her new boss—the current owner of the Extremis virus—was nad Elvin Scott.
"Jarvis, pull up everything on Elvin Scott," Stark ordered, his tone grim.
Within monts, the man's entire profile appeared before him, along with one very important detail: that very night, Elvin Scott was hosting a secret auction to present the Extremis virus to potential buyers. And of course, in a place like that, there would be no "good guys" in the audience.
"Looks like we've got plans tonight," Stark said coldly.
"Ladies and gentlen, welco to our auction!" Elvin Scott bead on stage. Beside him sat three glass vials, each glowing with a sinister crimson light. "Allow to introduce our latest product—our miraculous Extremis virus!"
In the audience were terrorists, private militias, black-market arms dealers—every shade of dangerous humanity imaginable.
Scott gestured, and the massive screen behind him lit up with a mutated DNA model, along with an animation explaining how Extremis rewrote human genes from the inside out.
"Ladies and gentlen, as you can see, the Extremis virus penetrates deep into human DNA, reorganizing it to make the subject stronger, faster—better. Extremis can et any need. It can remake humans into the most perfect beings alive. A new future awaits us all."
Yeah, Stark thought from within the crowd, a brand-new future… soaked in blood.
"Sir," a cold, stone-faced security guard approached him. His expression was hard enough to make granite jealous. "Open your briefcase. We need to check it."
From the mont Stark walked into the venue, he'd been hacking into their system. Unfortunately, it seed they had only just now realized the massive breach he'd created.
"Oh, sure. No problem," Stark replied casually. He reached down for the briefcase, his fingers discreetly pressing a hidden trigger.
A flash of searing orange light erupted from it, blasting the guard clear across the room. In an instant, the case unfolded, revealing a red armored arm, then legs, chest, and finally the helt—fully encasing Stark in under two seconds.
The suitcase armor—an evolution of the original Mark V. Stark had not rested on his laurels; he'd iterated countless tis, improving both firepower and durability to levels far beyond the original.
The auction hall dissolved into chaos. Guests scrambled for the exits, panic replacing greed.
Within seconds, Stark's HUD locked onto four specific targets—Extremis soldiers. The energy signatures radiating from their bodies lit them up like fireflies against the night.
He wouldn't repeat the mistakes he made with Killian. Before the Extremis-enhanced thugs could even reach him, his suit's high-energy taser systems fired, short-circuiting their overheated cores. Their bodies flared… then fizzled out, like soone had poured water over fire.
Stark had just found Extremis's weakness.
As for Elvin Scott—the man had vanished from the stage, leaving the three vials of Extremis behind in his panic.
So, that's it? Stark crouched beside the table, staring at the glowing vials. Elvin Scott was just a small-ti player. Stark could hack into his company's servers, wipe every bit of data on Extremis, and the virus would be gone forever. With Maya Hansen dead, no one else could recreate it.
And the old man? One phone call after this and he'd be rotting in a cell for life.
Which left only one real question—what to do with the virus.
"Sir… you're not going to…" Jarvis began.
"Jarvis," Stark interrupted quietly, "I think I've found the answer."
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