Marcus Young had always sensed something off about Obadiah Stane. The man had power—real power—the kind that came with decades of running a multi-billion-dollar company like Stark Industries. On the surface, Stane exuded charm, always walking the halls with a firm handshake and a warm smile, the kind of executive who could close a multi-million-dollar deal before lunch and still have time to joke around with the employees.
But beneath that polished exterior, Marcus had always felt an undercurrent of something darker. Maybe it was the way Stane carried himself when no one was looking. Maybe it was the glint in his eye when he thought no one was watching. It was subtle, but there were whispers. People said that Obadiah Stane had done things in the past—things that didn't always align with the glossy public image of Stark Industries.
Up until now, those whispers had meant little to Marcus. He was just an IT consultant, after all. His job was fixing servers, not worrying about the internal politics of the company's upper management. But ever since the accident with the arc reactor, Marcus had found himself drawn closer to the heart of Stark Industries—closer to Tony Stark, and by extension, closer to the simmering tensions that lurked beneath the surface.
Something was brewing at Stark Industries, and Marcus was about to find himself caught in the middle of it.
---
It started with a strange email.
Marcus was in his office, going over some routine security protocols when a notification popped up on his screen. It was an email, flagged for immediate attention. The subject line was nondescript—just a string of numbers that meant nothing to him—but the sender's name caught his attention: Obadiah Stane.
Marcus frowned. Obadiah Stane didn't send emails to low-level IT staff like him. Stane's communications were usually reserved for high-level executives, and even then, they were brief and to the point. He hesitated for a moment, unsure whether he should open it. Was this a mistake? Could it have been sent to him accidentally?
Curiosity got the better of him. He clicked the email open, and a brief message appeared on the screen:
"Meeting in Conference Room 12B. 8:30 PM. Be discreet."
Marcus's heart skipped a beat. What was this? Why would Stane be reaching out to him directly? And why the secrecy?
Conference Room 12B was on one of the restricted floors, reserved for private meetings between the upper echelon of Stark Industries. Marcus had never even been near it. And yet, here he was, being summoned by one of the most powerful men in the company. The weight of the message settled in his chest, and his instincts screamed at him that something wasn't right.
For a moment, Marcus considered ignoring it. This was clearly beyond his pay grade, and getting involved with Stane was likely a bad idea. But the nagging curiosity wouldn't leave him. He needed to know what this was about. If Stane wanted to meet him in secret, then something big was happening—and it probably wasn't good.
He looked at the clock. It was already 8:00 PM. If he was going to make it to the meeting, he had to leave now.
---
The corridors of Stark Industries felt eerie at night, with most of the employees gone for the day. Marcus made his way through the dimly lit halls, keeping his footsteps light and his head down. The building felt different after hours—less like the bustling hub of innovation it was during the day, and more like a maze of secrets.
When he reached Conference Room 12B, Marcus hesitated outside the door. His pulse quickened as he glanced at the security panel beside the entrance. He didn't have clearance for this floor, but the panel blinked green, and the door slid open automatically as if someone had already granted him access.
Stepping inside, Marcus was immediately hit by the quiet tension in the room. The walls were lined with sleek glass panels, and the room was dimly lit by a few overhead lights. In the center of the room was a large oval table, around which sat several figures, all of them in dark suits, their faces half-hidden in shadow.
And there, at the head of the table, was Obadiah Stane.
Stane looked up as Marcus entered, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Ah, Marcus. Right on time."
Marcus swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the room pressing down on him. He had expected Stane to be alone, not surrounded by what appeared to be a group of high-ranking executives. Something about this felt wrong—very wrong.
Stane gestured to an empty chair near the end of the table. "Please, have a seat."
Marcus hesitated but complied, sitting down cautiously. His mind raced as he tried to piece together what was happening. Why was he here? What did Stane want with him?
"I assume you're wondering why I called you here," Stane said, his voice calm and measured. "I'll get straight to the point. You've been working with Stark Industries for a few years now, and from what I've seen, you're good at your job. You keep things running smoothly, and more importantly, you know how to keep your head down. That's a quality I can appreciate."
Marcus didn't respond, but he felt the tension in the room tighten as Stane leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking onto Marcus's.
"I'm going to ask you a question, Marcus," Obadiah Stane continued, his voice dripping with a mixture of authority and charm, "and I expect you to answer honestly. Do you trust Tony Stark?"
Marcus felt his throat tighten. Trust Tony Stark? The question was simple enough on the surface, but the weight behind it was suffocating. Everyone at Stark Industries had a degree of admiration, even reverence, for Tony Stark. He was the beating heart of the company. But trust? Marcus wasn't sure how to respond.
Stane's eyes bored into him, waiting for an answer. The men seated around the table shifted slightly, their silence heavy with expectation.
"I—uh—" Marcus began, fumbling for the right words. "Of course I trust Tony. He's a brilliant leader, a visionary. I mean, he's—"
"A genius," Stane finished for him, his smile widening, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Yes, that's what everyone says, isn't it? Tony Stark, the boy genius, the superhero, the man who can do no wrong."
Stane's tone was hard, laced with bitterness, and it sent a shiver down Marcus's spine. He had always known there was tension between Stane and Stark, but this was something deeper—something darker.
"Let me tell you something, Marcus," Stane continued, his voice lowering as he leaned back in his chair. "Tony Stark may be a genius, but he's reckless. His ego blinds him to the realities of this world. The world doesn't run on clean energy and suits of armor. It runs on power, on control. And Stark Industries? It's a company built on blood, sweat, and, yes, weapons."
Marcus's heart pounded in his chest. The air in the room felt heavier, like the walls were closing in.
Stane's smile faded completely now. "Tony's obsession with his arc reactor, with Iron Man, it's going to ruin this company. He's turned us away from the core business that made us great. The weapons contracts, the defense deals—he's throwing it all away for some idealistic dream of a world without war. But that's not how the world works. The world needs power, Marcus. And that's where you come in."
"Me?" Marcus blinked, his voice barely audible. "I don't understand."
"You will," Stane said, leaning forward, his voice almost a whisper now. "You've been close to Tony's operations, haven't you? You've had access to sensitive information, security systems, and now, from what I hear, you've been working on Tony's precious arc reactor project."
Marcus's blood ran cold. How did Stane know? He had been careful, staying out of the spotlight ever since the accident, but Stane's words hit too close to home. This wasn't just a coincidence. Stane knew something.
"I—I don't have access to the arc reactor," Marcus stammered, his hands growing clammy. "I'm just an IT guy. I handle the servers, the network. I don't—"
"Marcus," Stane cut him off, his voice as smooth as silk, "don't play dumb with me. I've been watching you. You're smarter than you give yourself credit for. I've seen how quickly you've been solving problems, how you've managed to stay under the radar. But I also know that you're in a unique position to help me."
Marcus's heart pounded in his ears. Help him? Stane was a powerful man, but what he was suggesting—what he seemed to be hinting at—it wasn't just about corporate espionage. This was something bigger, something far more dangerous.
"I don't understand," Marcus repeated, though the sinking feeling in his gut told him he did.
Stane's expression darkened, his voice taking on a menacing edge. "Tony Stark is a problem, Marcus. A problem that needs to be dealt with. He's steering this company into the ground, and I won't stand by and let it happen. But Tony trusts you—or, at the very least, he doesn't see you as a threat. You can get close to him, closer than I can."
The realization of what Stane was asking hit Marcus like a freight train. Stane wanted him to betray Tony Stark. He wanted him to act as a spy, to sabotage Stark from the inside.
Marcus's mouth went dry. "I can't do that. I'm not... I'm not involved in any of Tony's work. I don't know anything."
Stane's smile returned, but it was colder now, more predatory. "You're already involved, Marcus. Whether you like it or not. Do you think Tony hasn't noticed your... unique abilities? He might not have pieced it all together yet, but he's close. You've been copying his genius, haven't you?"
Marcus's breath caught in his throat. Stane knew. He knew about the copying. But how? How could he possibly know?
"I don't—"
"Don't lie to me," Stane interrupted, his voice sharp. "I know what you're capable of. The arc reactor didn't just give you a new lease on life, did it? It gave you something more. And now, you're a threat to Tony, whether you realize it or not. Sooner or later, Stark's going to see you as competition, and when that happens... well, let's just say Tony Stark doesn't play well with others."
Marcus's heart raced. He felt trapped, like the walls of the room were closing in on him. He had never wanted to be a part of this. He had just been trying to do his job, to make sense of the powers that had been forced on him. But now, Stane was pulling him into a dangerous game—one he didn't want to play.
"I don't want any part of this," Marcus said, his voice shaking. "I'm not interested in whatever power struggle you're having with Tony. I just want to do my job."
Stane chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Oh, Marcus. You don't get to make that choice anymore. You're already in it, whether you like it or not. You can either be on the winning side—my side—or you can be collateral damage when this all comes crashing down."
The room fell silent. Marcus's mind raced, desperately searching for a way out, for some way to escape the web that Stane was weaving around him. But no matter how hard he tried to think, he couldn't see a path that didn't lead to disaster.
Stane stood up, walking slowly around the table, his footsteps echoing in the quiet room. He stopped in front of Marcus, placing a hand on his shoulder. The gesture was meant to be reassuring, but it felt more like a threat.
"Think about it, Marcus," Stane said softly. "I'm giving you an opportunity here. A chance to be part of something bigger than yourself. When Stark is gone, I'll be the one running this company. And you—you could be right there with me. All I need is your cooperation. Help me take control of Stark Industries, and I'll make sure you're rewarded beyond your wildest dreams."
Marcus swallowed hard, his throat tight. The weight of Stane's words pressed down on him, suffocating him. He didn't want this. He didn't want to betray Tony, didn't want to be part of whatever twisted plan Stane was concocting. But the fear gnawing at his gut told him that if he refused, Stane wouldn't hesitate to make him disappear.
"I need time to think," Marcus said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
Stane smiled, his hand squeezing Marcus's shoulder just a little too tightly. "Of course. Take all the time you need. But don't take too long. Time isn't something we have in abundance."
With that, Stane released Marcus and walked back to his seat at the head of the table. The other men in the room remained silent, their eyes trained on Marcus, their faces unreadable.
Marcus stood up slowly, his legs trembling beneath him. Without another word, he turned and left the room, the weight of Stane's ultimatum heavy on his shoulders.
---
The cold night air hit Marcus like a slap to the face as he stepped outside Stark Industries. His mind was racing, his heart pounding in his chest. He needed to clear his head, to figure out what he was going to do.
Obadiah Stane was a monster. That much was clear now. He wasn't just trying to take control of Stark Industries—he was willing to destroy Tony Stark to do it. And worse, he was willing to use Marcus to achieve his goal.
But what could Marcus do? If he went to Tony, would Stark even believe him? And if he didn't... if he refused to cooperate with Stane... what would happen then?
The image of Stane's cold smile flashed in Marcus's mind, and a chill ran down his spine. Stane was dangerous, and Marcus knew that crossing him could have deadly consequences.
But deep down, Marcus also knew he couldn't betray Tony. He couldn't be a part of Stane's twisted plan. Stark may have been reckless, arrogant even, but he was trying to change the world for the better. He was a hero, a man who had sacrificed everything to protect people.
Marcus wasn't going to let Stane destroy that.
---
The next day at work, Marcus felt the weight of his decision pressing down on him. He couldn't go to Tony directly—it was too risky. But he also couldn't sit idly by while Stane plotted against Stark. He needed to find a way to expose Stane's plan, to gather evidence that would prove what Stane was up to.
He spent the morning discreetly monitoring the company's network, looking for any signs of unusual activity. It wasn't long before he found it—encrypted files, hidden deep within the system, marked with Stane's private signature.
Marcus's heart pounded as he accessed the files, his fingers moving quickly across the keyboard. What he found sent a jolt of terror through him.
The files contained detailed plans—plans to take control of Stark's arc reactor technology, to sell it to the highest bidder. Weapons dealers, foreign governments, private militaries—they were all listed as potential buyers. Stane was planning to turn Stark's clean energy solution into a new generation of weapons, and he was going to do it behind Tony's back.
Marcus's breath caught in his throat. This was it. This was the evidence he needed to stop Stane.
But before he could react, a message popped up on his screen.
"We need to talk. Now. Conference Room 12B."
It was Stane.
Marcus's heart raced as he stared at the message. Stane knew. He knew Marcus had found the files. And now, Marcus had to make a choice.
He could go to Stane, play along with his game, and risk everything. Or he could go to Tony, expose the truth, and hope that Stark would believe him before it was too late.
Taking a deep breath, Marcus made his decision.
He wasn't going to run anymore.
---
Marcus took the elevator up to Tony's private lab. His heart pounded in his chest, but his mind was clear. He had made his choice. He was going to stand with Tony Stark.
And as the elevator doors slid open, Marcus knew that this was just the beginning.
The battle for Stark Industries had begun.