179. Fault Lines. (Patreon)

Pepper Potts POV:

The Prowler jet was another quiet reminder of just how far Peter Parker’s genius reached.

Sleek lines. Adaptive armor plating. Weapons systems that could level a city block or never fire at all. It felt less like a jet and more like a thinking predator, one that chose restraint because its creator demanded it.

Twenty minutes.

That was all it took to cross the country.

New York to Malibu in twenty minutes. An absurdity by any rational standard. But those same twenty minutes were more than enough for Tony to paint the biggest target imaginable on his back.

At my request, Peter had dispatched twelve Castraferrum air-attack variant drones. They flew in perfect formation alongside the Prowler, silver, blue and angular drones, bristling with hidden weapons and sensor arrays. Silent guardians.

When the jet transitioned into VTOL mode, the mansion below was already in full lockdown. Defensive shutters sealed. Energy shields hummed faintly. The Castraferrum drones fanned out, immediately asserting airspace dominance, locking onto every circling news helicopter with polite but unmistakable warnings.

I spotted the giant bunny plush sitting in the doorway as the ramp lowered.

Of course.

I sighed, keyed in my personal passcode and stepped inside the mansion.

“J.A.R.V.I.S,” I said, my heels echoing against the marble. “Where’s Tony?”

“Mr. Stark is currently investigating the bombing site of the Los Angeles TCL Chinese Theatre,” J.A.R.V.I.S replied evenly. “He is accompanied by Mr. Parker.”

I closed my eyes for a moment.

Of course he was.

I headed straight for the garage.

Tony stood atop a holographic projection of the blast site, arms crossed, eyes unblinking. The glowing image showed scorched concrete, vaporized metal and a perfect circular dead zone at the center.

Peter’s hologram stood opposite him, posture relaxed but eyes sharp, already peeling the data apart layer by layer.

“The recorded temperature peaked at three thousand degrees Celsius,” Tony said flatly. “That’s not a bomb. That’s a tantrum with a body count.”

“Three thousand,” I repeated softly, staring at the display. “That’s… that’s not possible.”

I stepped forward, kissed Tony on the cheek. He responded by kissing my forehead, grounding me the way he always did when the world got too loud. Funny how he can do that to me.

“How,” I asked quietly, “does a human body do that?”

Peter didn’t look up from the data.

“It’s not impossible.” He said calmly.

Tony shot him a look. “That’s not comforting, kid.”

Peter finally glanced at us. “Every action a human takes produces energy. Heat is a byproduct. When I use my Sandevistan at full output, my body temperature can spike to around five hundred degrees Celsius.”

Tony blinked. “I’m sorry... what?”

“That’s why my nanobots harvest excess heat,” Peter continued matter-of-factly. “They recycle it for internal power demands.”

I stared at him. “Peter, you’re saying that like it’s… normal.”

He shrugged. “It is for me.”

Tony waved a hand. “Great. Fantastic. My honorary protégé is a walking industrial furnace.”

Peter pressed on. “Extremis hyper-accelerates mitosis. Every cell divides faster, regenerates faster, responds faster. The brain forces the body to heal without external assistance. Tempering flesh to handle the large increase in heat."

“And that costs energy.” I said slowly.

“A lot of it,” Peter confirmed. “The body becomes its own heatsink. But that also supercharges every other cellular process.”

Tony’s expression darkened. “And when the system can’t keep up…”

“They explode,” Peter finished. “High heat. High yield explosion. No warning.”

Silence settled over the garage.

I broke it. “Why would Killian even bother with limb regeneration? Parker Pharmaceuticals does that. Wakandan Outreach does it also. Both of the organizations even have free programs or interest free loans.”

Peter looked at me, eyes thoughtful. “Pepper… what’s the number one fantasy of children?”

The answer came instinctively. “To be a superhero.”

The realization hit me like ice water.

“Oh.”

Tony let out a low whistle. “He’s not selling medicine. He’s selling dreams.”

“And control,” Peter added. “If Killian perfects Extremis, synthetic superhumans with a wide spectrum of abilities are only a step away.”

Tony and I both turned to Peter.

Tony squinted. “Okay. Before this gets any scarier, how far ahead are you on that curve?”

Peter shrugged casually. “The Spartan IVs require chemical enhancement on the genetic level before bio-cybernetic augmentation.”

My heart skipped. “Peter.”

“And recently,” He continued, far too calm, “I made a breakthrough. Self-tested.”

Tony’s voice went very quiet. “Define breakthrough.”

Peter smiled. “Neo Genesis. The ability to understand, alter, reshape and destroy all forms of life. Organic or inorganic. The definition of life is... very wide. Even energy can be considered life level wide.”

Tony and I stared at him, slack-jawed.

Before either of us could speak, Gwen appeared seemingly out of nowhere and twisted Peter’s ear hard.

“Ow... ow... Gwen!”

“There are no secrets between us!!!” She snapped, eyes blazing.

“I forgot to tell you!” Peter protested. “There was a lot going on!”

She released him, leaned in and kissed his cheek instead.

Peter grinned like an idiot.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I’m surrounded by lunatics.”

Peter coughed and gestured back to the hologram. “There was a similar heat spike in Tennessee. Same temperature range. Before any known Mandarin activity.”

Tony straightened. “So we take a road trip.”

Before I could respond, J.A.R.V.I.S interrupted.

“Sir. A Maya Hansen has arrived. Castraferrum drones are currently denying her entry.”

Tony sighed. “Let her in.”

Harry Osborn POV:

The restraints bit into my wrists and ankles.

I stood upright, strapped to a vertical medical bed, IV lines feeding into my veins. The solution inside them glowed, pulsing with a sickly orange warmth I could already feel spreading through my body.

Aldrich Killian stood in front of me, hands clasped behind his back, studying me like a specimen.

“Last chance,” He said. “Once we begin, there’s no stopping it.”

I met his eyes. “There’s no time like today.”

Killian nodded once and stepped out.

Through the glass, I could see Felicia in the observation room, her face tight with worry she was trying and failing to hide.

The injection began.

Fire exploded through my veins.

I screamed in pain.

My body arched against the restraints as heat tore through me, bones grinding, muscles spasming, every nerve lighting up at once.

The world dissolved into agony.

And I kept screaming.