The Stark Expo is a technological wonderland. From the moment I step through the main entrance, I'm bombarded with innovations that would be considered science fiction in my old world—holographic displays, autonomous robots, energy systems that defy conventional physics. And at the center of it all, the larger-than-life presence of Tony Stark.
I arrived early to avoid the worst crowds, but the massive fairground is already packed with enthusiastic attendees. Children wear toy Iron Man helmets, corporate representatives hawk their latest breakthroughs, and security personnel maintain a watchful eye over it all. The air buzzes with excitement and possibility.
This is my first direct encounter with the wider MCU beyond Oscorp's walls. It feels surreal to be standing here, knowing what's coming—knowing that somewhere in the world, Captain America sleeps in ice, Thor prepares for his coronation in Asgard, and Thanos plots the collection of infinity stones. And none of them have any idea that Harry Osborn is now played by an interdimensional traveler with fucking spider powers and knowledge of their futures.
I check my watch: 2:17 PM. Justin Hammer's weapons presentation isn't scheduled until this evening. That gives me several hours to explore, to gather intelligence on current technology levels and where Stark Industries stands compared to Oscorp. Research for my Batman Beyond plans, essentially.
The main exhibition hall houses dozens of company booths, each showcasing their contributions to Stark's vision of the future. I wander through, noting the technologies with potential applications for my suit and base of operations. Synthetic materials with adaptive properties. Miniaturized power systems. Advanced communications arrays. All pieces of the puzzle I'm assembling.
A demonstration of Stark's new repulsor technology draws a particularly large crowd. The presenter—a polished Stark Industries spokesperson—explains how the technology might revolutionize clean energy production. I listen attentively, mentally comparing it to Oscorp's current energy research.
Holy shit, we're not even close.
"Impressive, isn't it?" a voice says beside me.
I turn to find an elegantly dressed older man with silvery hair and sharp eyes. Something about him seems vaguely familiar, but I can't place him immediately.
"Very," I agree. "Though I wonder about the practical applications beyond what they're showing."
The man smiles knowingly. "That's always the question with Stark's toys. Impressive demonstrations, but what real-world problems do they solve?" He extends his hand. "Alexander Pierce."
The name hits me like a physical blow. Alexander Pierce—senior SHIELD leader and secret HYDRA operative. One of the primary antagonists from Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Standing right beside me, making casual conversation.
I shake his hand, hoping my recognition doesn't show on my face. "Harry Osborn."
"Ah, Norman's son." His eyes sharpen with interest. "I know your father quite well. We've worked together on several... projects."
HYDRA connections to Oscorp. Of course. The implications spin through my mind—did Norman know he was working with HYDRA? Is he already involved with them, or is Pierce cultivating him as a potential asset?
"Small world," I manage, maintaining a neutral expression.
"Indeed. And getting smaller all the time." Pierce gestures around the expo. "Technology bringing us all closer together. For better or worse."
"You don't sound convinced it's for the better."
Pierce studies me with newfound interest. "Let's just say I believe power should be in the right hands. Your father shares that philosophy."
Before I can respond, Pierce's phone buzzes. He checks it and offers an apologetic smile. "Duty calls. A pleasure meeting you, young Mr. Osborn. I suspect we'll be seeing more of each other in the future."
As he walks away, my spider-sense tingles faintly—not an immediate danger, but a warning nonetheless. Pierce represents a thread I hadn't considered: HYDRA's potential interest in Oscorp, in Norman, and by extension, in me. Another complication in an already complex situation.
I continue exploring the expo with this new awareness, paying closer attention to who's watching what, who's speaking to whom. The espionage undercurrents of the MCU are active all around me—SHIELD agents almost certainly monitoring the event, perhaps HYDRA operatives doing the same. And I'm walking through the middle of their invisible chess match with knowledge that could upend the board entirely.
By late afternoon, I've gathered a mental catalog of technologies to research further and companies to potentially partner with or acquire once I have greater control of Oscorp. I've also spotted at least three people who move with the distinctive awareness of trained agents—SHIELD, most likely, keeping an eye on the expo's most valuable innovations.
The crowds thicken as evening approaches. Justin Hammer's presentation is scheduled for 7 PM, which means Ivan Vanko's attack will follow shortly after. I position myself strategically—close enough to observe but with clear evacuation routes identified. If I remember correctly, Vanko's drones will target Stark but cause significant collateral damage in the process.
I consider my options. With my spider powers, I could potentially help during the attack—save civilians, maybe even assist in stopping Vanko. But revealing my abilities publicly would be catastrophically premature. I don't have a suit, a mask, or any way to conceal my identity. Being outed as enhanced on my first day with powers would be stupid and could derail all my carefully forming plans.
No, I decide. I'll help where I can without exposing myself. Focus on evacuation, on saving people from the chaos rather than fighting the threat directly. Batman operates from the shadows anyway—this will be my first lesson in that discipline.
The main pavilion fills to capacity for Hammer's presentation. I stand near the back, leaning against a support column with good sightlines to both the stage and the nearest exits. Justin Hammer bounds onto the stage with artificial energy, a second-rate Stark desperate to prove himself his equal.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he announces with practiced showmanship, "today we're making history!"
The presentation unfolds exactly as I remember from the film—Hammer introducing his new combat drones, each representing a branch of the military. The crowd responds with appropriate amazement, though the enthusiasm feels more manufactured than at Stark's earlier appearances. Everyone knows who the real star of this expo is, and it isn't Justin Hammer.
Right on cue, Tony Stark makes his entrance in the Iron Man suit, landing dramatically on stage. The audience erupts in genuine applause. Hammer's expression flickers between forced smile and absolute fury.
"We've got trouble," Stark says to Hammer, but the microphones pick it up.
This is it. Vanko has taken remote control of the drones. Within moments, chaos will erupt.
I slip away from my position, moving quickly toward where I expect the first drone attacks to concentrate. My spider-sense buzzes steadily now—danger approaching from multiple directions.
The drones activate, weapons systems coming online with mechanical precision. People begin screaming as understanding dawns—these machines aren't part of the show. They're malfunctioning. Or worse.
"Everyone move toward the exits!" I shout, my voice carrying with unexpected authority. "Now! This isn't a drill!"
Initial confusion gives way to panic as the first weapons fire. Iron Man launches into action, engaging the primary threats, but there are too many drones spreading throughout the expo grounds.
I stay low, using my enhanced speed and agility discreetly to guide people toward safety. When a section of scaffolding collapses, I'm there to pull a frozen child out of the way. When panicked attendees crowd an exit to dangerous levels, I'm there to organize them into a faster-moving line.
A drone crashes through the roof of a nearby pavilion, sending debris raining down on trapped expo-goers. Without thinking, I leap over a barrier and rush inside. The building is filling with smoke, disoriented people coughing and struggling to find the exits.
"This way!" I call, using my enhanced vision to see through the thickening smoke. "Follow my voice!"
As I guide them toward safety, a secondary explosion rocks the structure. A support beam cracks, groaning as it starts to give way. Below it, a woman struggles with a jammed stroller wheel, unaware of the imminent danger.
No time to think. I cross the distance in a blur, positioning myself beneath the falling beam. As it crashes down, I catch it with both hands, the weight momentarily staggering even my enhanced strength. Gritting my teeth, I hold it steady.
"Go!" I shout to the woman, who stares at me in shock. "Get out now!"
She snaps out of her paralysis, abandoning the stroller and grabbing her child instead, running for the exit I've indicated. Once she's clear, I carefully maneuver from beneath the beam, lowering it as gently as possible to minimize further structural damage.
Outside, the battle continues. Iron Man streaks overhead, pursued by multiple drones. Explosions rock the fairgrounds. Emergency responders are arriving, but they're overwhelmed by the scale of the disaster.
I continue working my way through the chaos, helping where I can without being too obvious about my abilities. A strategic shove here that looks normal but carries the force to bend metal trapping a victim. A leap that could almost be explained by adrenaline to reach someone stranded on a collapsing platform.
Throughout it all, my spider-sense proves invaluable—warning me seconds before danger strikes, allowing me to react with precision that looks like luck to outside observers.
After what feels like hours but is probably only twenty minutes, the immediate threat subsides. Vanko has been defeated, the drones disabled. Emergency services have taken control of the situation, treating injuries and securing the area.
I find myself at the perimeter, catching my breath beside a row of ambulances. My clothes are torn and singed, my face smudged with soot. I look like any other victim of the attack, which is perfect cover.
"You need medical attention, sir?" a paramedic asks, approaching with a kit.
I shake my head. "I'm fine. Others need help more."
"At least let me check that cut on your arm."
I glance down, surprised to see a gash I hadn't even noticed—a piece of shrapnel must have caught me during one of the explosions. But as the paramedic reaches for it, I pull back instinctively. The wound is already visibly healing, the edges knitting together before our eyes. Enhanced healing factor, another spider-power benefit.
"It's... it's nothing," I stammer, covering the cut with my hand. "Just a scratch."
The paramedic gives me an odd look but is quickly called away to a more serious case. I use the opportunity to slip away, putting distance between myself and the emergency response area before anyone can ask more questions or notice my unusually rapid recovery.
As I walk, the full weight of the evening settles on me. This wasn't a movie scene I was watching from my couch. These were real explosions, real injuries, real terror. And it's just the beginning. The MCU is a place of wonders, yes, but also of constant existential threats. Alien invasions. Killer robots. Mad titans with reality-altering powers.
I glance back at the smoking ruins of the Stark Expo, emergency lights cutting through the gathering darkness. Iron Man saved the day, yes, but not everyone. Not even close.
My phone buzzes in my pocket—somehow still functional despite everything. A text from Bernard: "Sir, I'm seeing reports of an attack at the Stark Expo. Are you safe?"
I type back quickly: "I'm fine. On my way home."
Another message appears before I can pocket the phone. This one from Peter: "Dude, are you at the Expo? It's all over the news!"
"I was. I'm okay. Talk tomorrow."
I hail a cab, giving the driver my address and sinking into the seat with exhaustion that's more mental than physical. My body feels fine—better than fine, actually, humming with energy and already healing the minor injuries I sustained. But my mind is racing, processing the reality of what I've just experienced and what it means for my plans.
The driver has the radio on, an emergency news broadcast covering the attack.
"...confirmed at least thirty-seven injuries, though miraculously no fatalities reported at this time. Witnesses describe Iron Man engaging the malfunctioning drones while Expo security coordinated evacuations. Several attendees have mentioned a young man who helped guide people to safety from a collapsing building, though authorities have not identified this individual..."
I tune it out, watching the city pass by through the window. New York at night—my city now. A city that will face threats far beyond what it experienced today.
Back at my apartment, Bernard is waiting anxiously in the living room. His relief at seeing me is palpable, though he maintains his professional composure.
"Sir, thank goodness. When I saw the news..." He trails off, taking in my disheveled appearance.
"You're injured."
"Just some cuts and bruises," I assure him. "Nothing serious."
Bernard doesn't look convinced but knows better than to press. "I've prepared a light dinner if you're hungry. And perhaps a hot bath would help with any... soreness."
"Thanks, Bernard. That sounds perfect."
After he withdraws, I examine myself in the bathroom mirror. The cut on my arm has already healed to a faint pink line. By morning, it will likely be gone entirely. The other scrapes and bruises are fading visibly, my enhanced healing working overtime.
I sink into the hot bath Bernard has prepared, letting the warmth soothe muscles that aren't actually sore.
1. I've confirmed my spider powers work instinctively under pressure.
2. I've personally witnessed the technological capabilities of both Stark and Hammer Industries.
3. I've made contact, however briefly, with Alexander Pierce—giving me direct confirmation of HYDRA's ongoing operations.
4. I've experienced my first MCU action sequence as a participant rather than an observer.
All valuable data points for planning my next steps.
After eating and changing into fresh clothes, I return to my study. The quantum engineering presentation with Peter and MJ has obviously been canceled in light of the evening's events. I'll need to reschedule that connection point.
I open my laptop and begin a new secure document, encoding it with encryption methods I learned in my previous life as an IT specialist. This will be my Batman Beyond design bible—a comprehensive plan for creating the suit, the persona, and the infrastructure I'll need.
I start with materials. After today's Expo exploration and my scheduled access to Oscorp's materials science division, I have a clearer picture of what's available and what's possible. The suit needs to be lightweight but protective, enhancing my natural spider abilities rather than hindering them.
Next, base of operations. Wayne Manor had the Batcave; I need an equivalent. The abandoned subway tunnels beneath Manhattan might offer possibilities—secluded, accessible with the right equipment, and conveniently off most official maps.
Technology integration comes next. What can I adapt from Oscorp? What might I need to develop independently? I sketch rough designs for communications systems, sensing equipment, transportation options.
Hours pass as I work. Around 3 AM, I finally pause, leaning back in my chair and rubbing my eyes. On my screen, the outline of Project Beyond stares back at me.
My phone buzzes with a news alert: "Stark Expo Attack: Hammer Arrested, Connection to Vanko Confirmed."
The wheels of the MCU timeline continue turning. Iron Man 2 is reaching its conclusion. Soon, Thor will arrive on Earth. Captain America will be discovered in the ice. The pieces are moving toward the formation of the Avengers and the Chitauri invasion.
And now there's a new piece on the board.
Me.