A few days later — Stark Industries, CEO's Office.
Tony Stark emerged from his personal laboratory, his face still slightly smudged with soot, the faint hum of repulsor tech trailing behind him. As he walked into the expansive lounge of his office, the sight before him stopped him dead in his tracks.
Joseph was reclining casually on his custom Italian-leather sofa, swirling a glass of red wine as if he owned the place.
Tony blinked.
"I swear, you're freer than the A.I. in my toaster," he muttered, plucking another wine glass from the cabinet and pouring himself a drink. "What is this? Day three of your magical house-crashing tour?"
Joseph raised his glass in greeting, flashing a relaxed smile. "Of course I'm here to see you. Why else would I grace this fine fortress of capitalism?"
As he snapped his fingers, a commotion erupted in the temporary kitchen nearby. A moment later, a hot, perfectly wrapped Roujiamo floated out of thin air, levitating toward Tony like a gift from the heavens.
Tony didn't even blink. "Magic food delivery. You're spoiling me."
Taking a large bite, he moaned in satisfaction. "Alright, forget everything I said. Even if we weren't partners, I'd still hear you out for this meat bun. What's the catch this time?"
Joseph didn't answer immediately. His eyes were locked on the massive television mounted on the wall.
Suddenly, the channel flickered, shifting from a talk show to a live news broadcast.
"Breaking news out of Washington D.C.," the reporter announced with a somber tone. "The Oval Office has been attacked by an unidentified Mutant. Both the President and Vice President have reportedly been assassinated..."
Tony's hand froze mid-bite.
"What the hell?"
He turned, mouth agape, looking from the screen to Joseph. "Mutant assassin? Don't tell me this is what you were waiting for."
Joseph raised an eyebrow, sipping his wine calmly. "I'm not a prophet, Tony. I can't predict the future."
He gestured at the screen. "But let's just say the X-Men Documentary has been downloaded more than any Marvel movie ever made. That kind of exposure is bound to ruffle feathers."
Tony's expression darkened. "You're suggesting someone did this to frame Mutants?"
"I'm not suggesting," Joseph said, "I'm stating. The assassin is a Mutant."
Tony's brows furrowed deeper. "Then you came here to ask for my help in tracking him down?"
Joseph chuckled. "Come on. Do I look like I need help catching one runaway assassin?"
Tony looked at the floating meat bun that was now warming itself beside the wine bottle.
"…Fair point."
"But," Joseph continued, "I do need you—for something more important."
He stretched his arms and stood, cracking his neck lazily. "I need Iron Man to be a witness."
Tony blinked. "A what?"
"You heard me."
Joseph's tone was matter-of-fact. "The X-Men don't have legal authority. Even if we catch the assassin, people will accuse us of staging the entire thing. You, on the other hand, are the world's most visible private hero. You're a symbol of neutrality. If you vouch for the arrest, it'll carry weight."
Tony leaned back, thoughtful.
He had done his homework recently—especially after Joseph had dropped that bombshell about his father possibly being a Mutant. With J.A.R.V.I.S. trawling through encrypted databases and buried files, he now knew more about Mutant-related organizations than most senators.
One thing was clear: most of these groups didn't care much about legal procedure. Whether it was the Hellfire Club, the Brotherhood, or even the X-Men, they operated outside the bounds of traditional justice.
But Joseph?
He was different.
He wasn't just integrating into the system—he was weaponizing it.
And that terrified Tony in all the best ways.
"Alright," Tony said. "Let's hear your plan."
Joseph was already on his phone.
"Alice, connect me to Shadowcat."
Moments later, Kitty Pryde's voice came through.
"I'm at the academy. What's the update?"
"Record a video with Professor X and the senior X-Men. Announce that the X-Men are launching a full investigation into the assassination. Tell the world we'll catch the killer within 24 hours."
"Got it." Her voice was steady. "I'll handle the channel."
Joseph nodded and continued without missing a beat. "Once it's uploaded, have Charles use Cerebro to locate the assassin. Then send the X-Men to retrieve them."
Tony smirked. "And I'm guessing that's my cue to suit up?"
"No," Joseph said, smiling faintly. "Your cue is to report the case to the NYPD."
Tony nearly choked on his wine. "The NYPD? Not S.H.I.E.L.D.? Not the CIA? Why the hell are we going local?"
"Because," Joseph said, "this isn't about governments or intelligence agencies. It's about optics. Public trust. And nothing earns that trust like bringing a suspect in through the front doors of a city precinct."
Tony paused.
It was insane.
It was genius.
It was so Joseph.
"And the media?" Tony asked. "Let me guess, you've already planned the coverage."
Joseph was already dialing another number.
"Mr. Eddie Brock," he said into the phone. "We spoke briefly last month. Remember our agreement?"
A gruff voice answered on the other end, sounding more skeptical than excited.
"Yeah, I remember. But let's be real, Mr. Joseph. I'm a low-tier reporter from the Global Daily. Why would I believe a guy I've never even met is going to give me the biggest scoop of the year?"
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Global Daily?" he mouthed silently. "Isn't that the paper that's one bad headline away from bankruptcy?"
Joseph ignored him.
"Eddie," he said patiently, "you've read the news today, haven't you?"
There was a pause.
Then Eddie's voice turned sharp. "You're saying... this is connected to the assassination?"
"More than that," Joseph said calmly. "Show up at NYPD headquarters in thirty minutes, and I promise you—your name will be on every newsfeed in the country."
Silence.
Then the sound of furniture scraping, keys jingling, and a series of curses.
"Shit! I'm on my way! Ten minutes tops!"
The call ended in a flurry of thuds and rushed profanity.
Joseph set his phone down and returned to his wine as if nothing had happened.
Tony just stared at him.
"You're… different," he finally muttered. "Different from every other Mutant I've ever known."
Joseph glanced sideways at him.
"How so?"
Tony shook his head. "Most of them ignore the system. They break rules to survive. But you… you're beating humans at their own game. You're not just surviving. You're rewriting the rules."
Joseph smiled.
"It's not about rebellion. It's about reform. You can't win against the world if you're always standing outside of it."
He paused, finishing his glass of wine.
"That's why we're not just going to catch the assassin, Tony. We're going to prove to the world who the real enemy is."
The hunt had begun.
But in this game of shadows, illusions, and shifting truths…
Who was the hunter?
And who was the prey?
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