Marvel's Iron Lady

This meeting was bound to be a confrontation. For Norman Osborn, what was being weighed on the scales in this negotiation was the life of both him and his son.

The only bargaining chip he possessed was his share of Oscorp Industries, along with some other attached assets.

On the other hand, for Miss Stark, this negotiation was almost effortless—it didn't truly concern her.

If it weren't for the fact that Oscorp presented an easy opportunity for exploitation, she wouldn't have needed to deal with the Osborns at all.

For her, the Green Goblin duo—father and son—were characters she could easily do without. She didn't care whether the two Osborns lived or died.

That said, at least from Miss Stark's personal perspective, the Osborns were relatively better than some others.

But this wasn't what mattered. What mattered was, if Norman Osborn didn't agree to her terms, would she need to take action before the Green Goblins had a chance to grow stronger?

Oscorp Industries, with nearly a $30 billion valuation and related assets, was there for the taking.

Moreover, the company was connected to several individuals with unique backgrounds.

For instance, Dr. Curtis Connors, the Lizard, who was researching a serum similar to the Super Soldier formula.

There was also Dr. Otto Octavius, the Doc Ock, an expert in atomic physics, mechanical engineering, and neural interfaces.

And Max Dillon, also known as Electro, a brilliant electrical engineer.

Post-separation from the family business, Oscorp grew tremendously and attracted a lot of interesting talent.

Now, as Miss Stark was preparing to assemble her superhero alliance, she was eager to expand her team members.

She knew that a small team like the Avengers could never defeat the Mad Titan Thanos.

In fact, Miss Stark had been planning to imitate DC Comics' Batman by forming her own superhero group.

Alright, maybe calling it an "alliance" was a bit much, but fundamentally, there wasn't much difference, right?

At present, her eyes were set on the Osborn family and the assets and talent within Oscorp Industries.

Unfortunately, her hopeful proposition was met with outright rejection.

The family's genetic disease was indeed troubling Norman, but he clearly wasn't at his wit's end just yet.

For now, he still had hope in the costly experimental drugs Oscorp was investing billions in each year.

Miss Stark understood. After all, when you're investing that much money annually, it's natural to cling to some hope.

Anyone facing their final moments—if they still had attachments to this world—would grasp at any straw they could find.

Miss Stark was curious to see the expression on Norman Osborn's face when he realized that the drugs he counted on would turn him into a monster.

Would he then come begging her to save him, pleading for her Extremis Virus to rescue the pitiful future of the Osborn family?

"Well, if you're so determined to refuse, I see no reason to stick around any longer," Miss Stark said coolly as she rose from the sofa in Norman's office.

"But I am curious, Norman—what expression will you wear when you realize your miracle cure can't save you or your family?"

With those parting words, Miss Stark turned and left without hesitation, leaving no trace behind except for the weight of her words in Norman's complex gaze.

Dr. Curtis Connors' serum might be designed to emulate the Super Soldier formula, but Connors didn't have the genius of Dr. Erskine or Howard Stark.

So—strictly speaking, Miss Stark wasn't in a hurry.

As of now, nothing but the Extremis Virus could cure the Osborn family's hereditary illness without leaving side effects.

It was the only solution that could give them immense power while still allowing them to maintain a normal appearance.

The only issue was that her plan for the next stage would now require some extra effort to secure funding.

When Miss Stark returned to her Malibu mansion, she spent several days going over the fragmented memories in her mind again.

There was still about two years until the next major event—a two-year window of relative calm.

Perhaps some smaller incidents might occur during this time, but none would interfere with what she intended to achieve now that she had the Space Stone.

As for what she should do in these two years, she fell into deep thought, weighed down with concerns.

Should she enjoy life and bask in everything wealth had to offer? That did sound like a comfortable option.

But indulgence came at the cost of precious time she could spend improving herself, and it would only make her more anxious about the future.

Compared to the Space Stone, even the Extremis Virus paled in significance. No matter how powerful someone became, the Space Stone could banish them to the edge of the universe in an instant.

The power of the Infinity Stones was unfathomable. Now that Miss Stark had mastered the Space Stone, she understood its potential more than anyone.

Yet those fragmented memories in her mind kept reminding her: as powerful as the Infinity Stones were, Thanos was no pushover either.

Thanos' sheer physical might was absolute. One Infinity Stone alone would never be enough to stop him from carrying out his plan to wipe out half of all life.

A storm was brewing in California, and Miss Stark could feel her inner self trembling.

That nagging unease about the future, the sense of helplessness, the inability to see what lay ahead—all of it haunted her.

She had gained control over space, but the stronger she became, the more she realized just how unstoppable Thanos truly was.

The memories were fragmented, but after sifting through them, one truth remained: death.

In those visions, her counterpart from another world had succeeded but also failed. Though they had stopped Thanos, they had lost countless people.

Miss Stark refused to lose anyone. If she wanted to prevent that outcome, she had to grow even stronger.

With her mind made up, she locked herself away in her workshop beneath the mansion's garage.

For days, she worked tirelessly, barely sleeping or eating, driven by her obsession.

She analyzed future events, plotted out strategies, and filled her workshop with endless blueprints.

But—even with the support of the Extremis Virus, which allowed her to bypass sleep, she still needed to replenish her energy.

Eventually, despite JARVIS' repeated warnings, her intense focus caught up with her. She collapsed beside her workbench after a week without rest.

When Pepper and Happy arrived, alerted by JARVIS, they found Miss Stark buried under a mountain of blueprints.

The garage was littered with papers, but no one dared disturb them.

In reality, Miss Stark hadn't collapsed from exhaustion alone—her mental fatigue and lack of basic sustenance had overwhelmed her.

The Extremis Virus had its limits. It could suppress the need for sleep, but it couldn't prevent the effects of mental exhaustion.

As darkness clouded her vision, Miss Stark slipped into unconsciousness, waking up a full week later.

She found herself in a private hospital room in downtown Los Angeles, lying in a specialized care bed.

The faint stirrings on the bed roused the professional bodyguard standing by her bedside. Happy Hogan was quick to react.

"Boss, you're finally awake."

Stark Industries didn't particularly care that Miss Stark had collapsed. After all, she wasn't closely tied to the company's day-to-day affairs.

Once the doctors confirmed her condition as overwork, the board dismissed it as a non-issue.

Over the past few days, Happy had been her constant companion at the hospital, watching over his boss.

After all, she was the one who signed his paycheck, and the two had built a good friendship over time.

Pepper often dropped by, but she had her own work to handle, so her visits weren't as frequent.

Turning to pour Miss Stark a glass of water, Happy smiled, relieved that she was okay.

He knew all too well how important Miss Stark was—not only to his job but also to his personal sense of loyalty.

"I'm fine, Happy. Can you give me some time alone? I need to think."

Once Happy had left the room and closed the door, Miss Stark's expression turned complex.

She could feel that her body was fine, thanks to the incredible healing properties of the Extremis Virus.

But the issue wasn't physical—it was psychological. Her internal fear of the future weighed heavily on her.

In another world, her counterpart had been given a chilling assessment by Thanos himself.

"Tony Stark, you and I are alike. We are both cursed by knowledge."

The "knowledge" Thanos spoke of wasn't academic—it was the understanding of the universe's true nature.

The more you knew, the more you realized how insignificant you were in the grand scheme of things.

As one of the few people aware of the future's trajectory, Miss Stark found herself trapped in this existential dilemma.

Unlike her counterpart from another timeline, who gradually descended into this mental crisis, she had been thrust into it all at once.

She was unwilling to simply wait for death to come to her, refusing to resign herself to a fate she couldn't accept.

"I see you're troubled—need someone to talk to?"

A sudden voice shattered the stillness in the room, making Miss Stark's heart skip a beat.

There shouldn't have been anyone else in the room, so who had managed to infiltrate her hospital room?

As she raised her head, she found herself looking at a blonde woman, dressed in a long, dark brown robe.

She appeared young, yet there was an inexplicable air of ancient wisdom about her.

Miss Stark frowned slightly, recognizing who this woman was.

"You're the guardian of the dark side of the world, the magic user who's lived for nearly a thousand years?"

Her mind quickly pieced together names from the fragmented memories: the Ancient One, Kamar-Taj, Strange, and the Time Stone.

The Ancient One—the teacher of Stephen Strange and the most powerful sorcerer on Earth.

Kamar-Taj was her sanctum, where she and her followers fought to protect the world from the dark dimensions.

However, in another timeline, the Ancient One had been a bald woman, whereas this one before her had hair.

Not only did she have hair, but her presence exuded a unique, otherworldly aura.

"I expected you to appear ten years later, yet here you are now."

"And I didn't expect our paths to cross, but it seems I was wrong."

The Ancient One smiled warmly as she responded to Miss Stark.

If the Ancient One possessed the Time Stone, then she must have known about Miss Stark's knowledge of the future.

"So, what brings you here? Now I'm really curious."

Leaning back against the soft pillows, Miss Stark's smile turned intrigued.

"How interesting—why am I here? I'd love to know that myself."

The Ancient One lowered her hood, taking a seat where Happy Hogan had been moments ago.

Two women—both equally brilliant and wise—had transcended time to meet at this pivotal moment.

In her fragmented memories, the Ancient One had always been a figure confined to written records.

Even though Tony Stark from another timeline had taken an interest in the world of sorcery, he had only ever met Strange, not the Ancient One.

Miss Stark had expected the same for herself, but now here she was, face-to-face with the Ancient One, with the sorcerer playing her enigmatic games.

"Before I obtained the Infinity Stones, I was a firm atheist," Miss Stark admitted, shaking her head with a wry smile.

"But now I've changed my mind. There's just too much mystery and unknown in this world."

"So, O Guardian of Mysticism, why have you appeared before me now?"

She paused, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to her chest as she waited for the Ancient One's reply.

The sorcerer, still smiling warmly, watched her in silence, as if patiently waiting for her to finish.

When the Ancient One finally spoke, her words made Miss Stark's eyes widen in disbelief.

"—Would you like the Time Stone?"