S-Class

"Alien technology?" 

Stark's voice was skeptical, his tone clipped as he considered Professor Prince's statement. 

If someone had made such a claim a month ago, Stark might have believed it without hesitation. After all, Earth was barely scratching the surface of its technological potential, and equipment of this caliber seemed far beyond human reach. But now, with his experiences in the star realm, Stark knew better. 

There was no such thing as "technology" out there—not in the way Earth understood it. 

Earth's technological progress was a rare anomaly, a fluke in a universe dominated by divine forces. Most advanced civilizations were barred from developing technology independently. The star gods enforced this rule with an iron fist, punishing any society that dared to create weapons or machinery outside their divine blessings. Those who tried were wiped from existence, leaving Earth as an isolated exception. 

Here, technology flourished in ignorance. And now, someone was claiming alien technology had been introduced? It didn't add up. 

"Have you seen these aliens?" Stark asked, his brow furrowed in suspicion. 

Professor Prince shook his head, his face pale and drawn. "Not directly," he admitted. "But they contacted us—sent messages from beyond the stars. They transmitted schematics and instructions. That's how we built this device. The equipment arrived through a dedicated receiver in a secure lab." 

He hesitated, his voice dropping to a murmur. "No one's ever seen them in person. We don't even know if they're real. But if you want to see the lab, I'll give you the address. There's no point keeping it secret now." 

Stark crossed his arms, his expression hardening. "You built all of this based on messages from something you've never seen?" 

Professor Prince's gaze shifted downward, guilt flickering across his face. "We argued about it," he said quietly. "Some of us thought you should know. You've proven yourself. You've saved this planet more times than I can count. Some of us trust you completely." 

"But you didn't tell me," Stark said flatly. 

Prince nodded, his lips tightening. "No. The vote decided otherwise." 

He sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his words. "It sounds foolish now, but… we were afraid. You have power—more power than any of us could ever hope to understand. And while we're grateful for everything you've done, relying on you feels like handing over the keys to our survival. Can you imagine what it's like to live with that fear?" 

"You wanted your own army," Stark said sharply. "Your own source of power. But I warned you—Earth isn't ready for this kind of technology. You're playing with something you can't control." 

Prince's face darkened. "We knew that," he said bitterly. "But the temptation was too great. The potential was too great. You wouldn't understand." 

Stark took a step closer, his tone colder now. "I understand better than you think. You wanted power you could control, but you let fear cloud your judgment. You're not the first." 

Prince's expression shifted. He straightened slightly, his eyes narrowing as he fixed Stark with a piercing gaze. "Tell me something, Mr. ," he said, his voice low and deliberate. "You have resources beyond anything we can imagine. You've invented technology that could revolutionize the world—clean energy, advanced medicine, prosthetics that could give amputees their lives back." 

His voice grew sharper, more accusing. "You could have become a savior. A visionary. But instead, you built weapons. You built a suit of armor to fight and kill. You turned technology into a tool for destruction." 

Prince's lips curled into a thin, bitter smile. "You made yourself 'Iron Man.' Just a bigger gun." 

Stark didn't flinch, his face unreadable beneath the glow of his suit's visor. The silence stretched between them until, finally, he spoke. 

"Maybe," he said simply. 

At that moment, the doors to the room swung open, and agents from the Ninth Special Service Division entered. Their footsteps echoed on the tiled floor as they moved in to detain Professor Prince. The old man didn't resist, his shoulders slumping as they cuffed him and prepared to escort him out. 

Stark watched for a moment before turning away. But as he reached the door, he paused. 

"Maybe I am just a bigger gun," he said softly, almost to himself. "But at least now, I can look at myself in the mirror every day." 

---

The so-called laboratory was easy to find. Stark's AI guided him through its hidden defenses, which were far more advanced than anything Earth should have been capable of building. Even his systems struggled to fully decode them. 

When he arrived, most of the data had been wiped clean. Files had been deleted, systems erased, and even the physical equipment showed signs of tampering. This wasn't the work of human hands. Whatever had built this technology had also destroyed it, ensuring no traces remained. 

Stark examined the ruins, frustration bubbling beneath his calm exterior. In a universe where technology was forbidden by the gods, who—or what—could create something this advanced without being annihilated? 

His thoughts turned to the astral planes. Green Lantern was still wandering the star realm, and he might have answers. But that was a question for another time. 

---

As the first rays of dawn broke over the horizon, Charlie received a notification from his system. His experience bar, which had been sitting at max capacity for what felt like forever, had finally leveled up. 

S-Class Hero Pool Unlocked. 

The words sent a thrill of excitement through him. This was the moment he had been waiting for—a chance to summon heroes with unmatched power. His roster was about to reach a whole new level. 

But S-Class heroes came at a price. Each draw cost 3,000 hero points, six times more than the A-Class pool. Charlie had saved enough for two draws, but the stakes were high. 

"Alright," he muttered to himself, taking a deep breath. "Let's do this." 

He initiated the first draw. The screen lit up with dazzling special effects as the pool spun, and then—BANG! A massive figure emerged from the light. Standing over three meters tall, with green muscles that rippled like steel cables, was The Hulk. 

"The Strongest Avenger," Charlie murmured, a grin spreading across his face. 

Though Hulk's reputation had taken a hit in recent years, his raw strength and durability remained legendary. He was a powerhouse, capable of leveling entire battlefields with a single blow. 

But Hulk wasn't the S-Class hero Charlie had hoped for. He was strong—unbelievably so—but still rated A-Class. 

"One more shot," Charlie whispered, his heart pounding. 

He initiated the second draw. This time, the special effects were even more elaborate, lightning crackling across the screen as the pool spun faster and faster. A streak of red and gold flashed through the light, and a figure emerged—slender, vibrant, and crackling with speed. 

Charlie's breath caught in his throat. 

His first S-Class hero. 

The Flash.

[Oh Shit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FcK FCK FCK!!! Not superman but still!!!!!!!!!!!!!!