The Call with Tony

"Hello, Nick."

"Jason? Is something wrong?"

Nick answered the phone, his voice tinged with curiosity. It wasn't every day that I called him out of the blue.

I got straight to the point. "Nick, I need a favor. Can you look up Tony Stark's personal contact information and send it to me?"

There was a brief silence on the other end. "Why do you need that?" Nick asked, clearly puzzled. He couldn't see the connection between a so-called 'prophet' who dabbled in comic books and a billionaire playboy arms dealer.

"You don't need to worry about that," I replied, keeping my tone casual but firm. "I've got something important to handle."

Nick sighed, clearly frustrated by my secrecy, but he didn't press further. "Alright, I'll send it to you in a bit," he said, sounding resigned.

I hung up and waited, knowing Nick wouldn't take long. A few minutes later, my phone buzzed with a new message. I glanced at the number on the screen and, without hesitation, dialed Tony Stark.

It didn't take long for the call to connect, and a voice that could only belong to Tony answered. "Who is this?" His tone was lazy, edged with irritation—clearly, I'd caught him at a bad time.

"Tony, hello. I heard you're about to head out to close a massive arms deal with the military?"

There was a brief pause on the other end, the kind that made me imagine Tony's eyes narrowing as he tried to figure out who the hell I was. My words had struck a nerve; this was something not many people knew about.

"Who are you?" Tony's voice was wary now, the earlier laziness replaced with sharp suspicion.

"Do you know the Marvel comics series 'Captain America' that's been gaining popularity lately?" I asked, turning the tables on him.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Tony snapped, clearly annoyed. The disdain in his voice was palpable. I could almost picture him rolling his eyes. Comics weren't exactly his thing—too childish, too beneath him.

"I'm the guy who drew it. And I'm planning to draw the next big hit—'Iron Man.' You're the protagonist, Tony. You might want to grab a copy when it comes out. It might just help you avoid the danger you're about to face. Because what I'm drawing... is your future."

There was a stunned silence on the other end. I could practically hear Tony trying to process what I'd just said, probably wondering if he was dealing with a madman.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Tony's voice was laced with anger now. "Let me make something clear—your scam isn't going to work on me. And if you really have the nerve to draw me and profit off it, get ready to be sued into oblivion. I'll make sure you and your so-called Marvel are dead and buried."

His threat hung in the air, but I remained unfazed.

"If you make it back alive, don't forget this number. You might just want to thank me."

I hung up before he could respond, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. That call had gone about as well as I'd expected. Tony Stark wasn't the kind of guy who took well to warnings, especially not from strangers who claimed to know his future.

But that's the thing about people like Tony—they're too proud to listen until they're staring death in the face. When he finally does, he'll remember this conversation. He'll remember that I tried to warn him, and when he does, he'll come looking for me.

"Jason, the report is ready."

Liu Qi's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. She had just walked into my office, a stack of papers in her hands. She looked at me curiously, probably wondering why I had that smug look on my face.

"Great, bring it over," I said, leaning back in my chair. 

As she handed me the report, I glanced at the phone on the desk. I had planted the seed. Now, it was just a matter of time before Tony Stark's world came crashing down, and when it did, he'd know exactly where to find me. 

For now, though, I had other things to focus on. Tony would come around eventually, and when he did, he'd see that I wasn't just some comic book artist. I was something much more dangerous—a prophet of his own making. 

---