Do You Want to Be Human Again?

Could the U.S. government really be unaware of the grudge between Reed's team and Victor Von Doom? Of course not. So, if they brought Victor in, either he had access to some high-level avenues of influence, or he held some critical information unknown to anyone else.

Since Miss Stark hadn't personally experienced Victor's threat like Reed and Susan had, she wasn't inclined to overestimate him. As an outsider, she could better grasp the bigger picture and likely had an immediate sense of why Victor was here. But the Fantastic Four—caught up in the events with him—were too vigilant to consider his presence calmly; their sole interest was to neutralize him as swiftly as possible, not to sit and chat.

Especially after what Victor had done to them.

"Enough! Let him go—I don't care what your issues with him are. Right now, Mr. Victor is a protected witness!"

General Hager, knowing Victor's full history, had kept him waiting outside while he briefed the team. Understanding Victor's actions made Hager angry too, so he'd let the Thing hold Victor's neck just long enough for the message to sink in before stepping in to call a halt.

"Let him go, Ben," Reed finally said, realizing why the military had allowed Victor to be here. Despite his continuing anger, Reed suppressed it, understanding that now wasn't the time for personal grievances.

"Mr. Von Doom brings first-hand intel on an encounter with extraterrestrial life," Hager explained, "and the nation sees him as valuable."

Before he could finish, Miss Stark rose from her seat. Her sudden movement drew everyone's eyes toward her, the only person in the room neither affiliated with the U.S. government nor part of the Fantastic Four.

"So, just how are we supposed to trust that this Mr. Von Doom truly encountered the extraterrestrial being we've been pursuing? Its speed is too great for even satellites to track easily, and I have serious doubts that an ordinary man—or rather, someone with certain acquired powers—could really come into contact with it." She added, "Oh, no offense, Victor, I'm just stating the facts."

Victor noticed this woman's mocking tone and shot her a peculiar look, only to meet a smiling, unruffled expression that held an edge of hidden malice.

"Furthermore," Miss Stark continued, "we're all aware that after the cosmic radiation event and the crash of his space station, Doom Technologies falsely hyped its prospects, misleading numerous clueless investors. The result was a stock collapse and bankruptcy. Given this track record, I find his credibility highly suspect, General—so, on what grounds should we believe him?"

Miss Stark's words left everyone silent. Her reasoning was solid, even objective; from an investor's perspective, there was every reason to doubt Victor given his history. It seemed only fair, and the others, now considering her point, began to ponder the matter.

"I've got a better question: who exactly are you?" Victor asked, staring at this strange woman openly criticizing him.

Miss Stark met his gaze without a hint of backing down, unfazed by his opinion. Among everyone present, only General Hager had been fully briefed on Victor's background.

Victor had brought along a recording, showing his close-range encounter with the Silver Surfer. The Department of Defense believed that this put Victor a step ahead of the team, justifying his transport all the way from the Balkans to London.

"Enough bickering. Let's at least see what he has to show us before deciding whether to include him in this mission."

With that, General Hager stepped forward to mediate. He motioned to his security guards and left the conference room, with Victor smirking as he followed. Miss Stark, likewise, followed without hesitation, showing no concern about her earlier clash with Victor.

Watching her leave, the Fantastic Four exchanged uneasy glances. Reed, gritting his teeth, finally led the team after them.

The U.S. Embassy had, in recent years, moved from an aging building to this five-story neo-European structure in a prime part of the city. They arrived at a specially designated screening room, where Victor prepared to display footage from his helicopter's surveillance equipment on a large projector.

"I tracked it down in the Alps," Victor explained, "and documented my encounter. I attempted communication, but it was clear it had no interest in talking. However, I did gather some useful information—it's a sentient life form, and it understands English, so dialogue is possible."

The footage showed a snow-covered mountain range with a flat expanse nearby, in which a giant, yawning hole led down toward the planet's core.

In the recording, Victor approached the Silver Surfer and tried to speak to it, only for the Surfer to quickly respond with a hostile, sudden burst of energy that sent Victor flying several meters into a bank of snow.

"Rewind to when it struck you," Reed said. "That attack doesn't resemble any known form of energy release. Something about the origin of that energy seems… off."

The footage replayed, slowed down this time, allowing everyone to see that the energy used to blast Victor wasn't emitted from the Surfer itself but channeled from its surfboard through its hands.

"With this footage, could we verify that separating it from its board would cut off its energy source?"

In truth, the video Victor provided confirmed one crucial detail: the Silver Surfer's power indeed originates from the silver board beneath him.

The question, then, became whether separating the Silver Surfer from his board could cut off his energy supply—and if so, could he be harmed in his energy-depleted state? This was now on everyone's minds.

"Considering that the helicopter's equipment didn't malfunction during close-range contact, we might surmise that the blackouts it causes in major cities worldwide are likely from siphoning electrical energy," Miss Stark explained.

"In other words, it has a weakness—just one we haven't pinpointed. I have a suggestion, though. You're aware of the recent incident in New York with the Mindbreaker cult, aren't you? They had acquired some unusual energy as well.

"Back then, a few agencies approached me, and we made a deal. I provided an experimental technology—an energy-neutralization field based on a particle pulse theory—which successfully countered the dangerous energy in the cult members' bodies, allowing police and national security to shut down the cult crisis.

"I can offer that technology here. You might find it helpful. I've already sent the relevant data to Reed's inbox. So, good luck—I'm going to take a break now. If you'll excuse me."

Reed was visibly baffled. Why send it to his inbox? Wasn't Miss Stark the consultant, and he her hired muscle? Why was it now on him to assist with the research? And did she seriously just hand over her research findings? Or had she calculated that he'd not only avoid exploiting her work but would even enhance it?

Wait, hold on. Did she just walk away? Earth was facing potential destruction, and she had the nerve to go rest?

"So, General…what should we do?" Reed asked, turning to General Hager.

"Think I'd be asking you if I had any answers myself? Figure it out and get on it!" the General retorted impatiently, waving them off and then marching out with his team.

After further talks with the U.S. and British governments, the team was provided with extensive resources. Reed and Victor were given all they could need to devise equipment capable of restraining the Silver Surfer.

Meanwhile, Miss Stark left the embassy and returned home—or rather, to Howard's old estate across the road, just a few steps from the U.S. Embassy. As the only other scientists besides Reed Richards and Victor Von Doom, the research team was understaffed, especially with Miss Stark withholding further assistance. Even Reed's fiancée, Susan Storm—an MIT alum with a background in energy sciences and business administration—was enlisted to help.

So, the three of them dived into research, investigating the equipment Miss Stark had outlined. Miss Stark, however, had little interest in Earth's perilous situation and instead joined Ben Grimm and Johnny Storm for a trip to a bar just down the street.

When it came to pub culture, British and American bars were distinct worlds. Americans enjoyed rowdy crowds, whereas the British leaned toward quiet company; rowdy scenes in a British pub were rare. The exception was the World Cup when Brits abandoned all restraint, gathering for the spectacle and, of course, spawning the occasional football hooligan.

Grimm's massive stone body naturally drew attention wherever he went. Almost everyone was curious about the lava-stone-like pattern of his stony muscles. Walking with him, Johnny and Miss Stark enjoyed the gawking stares from the crowd. After all, everyone had heard about what happened earlier in the day—superheroes from America had arrived in Britain to help.

"Get yourselves something to drink, my treat," Miss Stark said at the bar, pulling out a few fifty-pound notes and slapping them on the counter. "No need to look at me like that; the extra is for repairs."

She knew full well that large bills were difficult to use in Britain, but given that Ben had accidentally shattered the pub's glass door on his way in and then broken a chair while sitting down, she felt it only fair to leave some compensation.

Johnny shrugged at the two, then spotted some girls in the bar and quickly went to introduce himself, joining them at the dartboard and pool table in the bar's entertainment area with his usual playboy charm.

Miss Stark glanced at Johnny's retreating figure before refocusing on Ben Grimm. Although Johnny's looks were similar to Steve Rogers's, Rogers was hardly one to play the field, preferring the old flame he had waiting back home.

"A whiskey for me," Grimm said, his deep, gravelly voice echoing through his stone chest. His internal organs no longer functioned like a human's, and the lack of any body fluids added an ominous resonance to his words.

It stirred Miss Stark's curiosity. She found herself intrigued by his body structure and momentarily wondered if she could dissect him for a closer look.

"Get him a bottle of whiskey, and make me a sparkling champagne cocktail—whatever flavor," she told the bartender.

The bartender, who had been cautiously watching the giant stone man, nodded quickly. He retrieved a whiskey bottle from the back shelf and, fearing the glass bottle might be crushed in Grimm's hands, handed him a plastic beer stein instead.

"Ben, let me ask you something—do you want to return to your human body?" Miss Stark asked, seeming casual but with intent. "I mean, to retain your strength while becoming human again."

The question caught Grimm so off guard that his stony heart seemed to skip a beat.

"I happen to be working on an experimental project that might help you revert to a human form," Miss Stark said. "I know Reed's device attempted to remove the cosmic radiation from your genetic sequence and had you revert briefly. But it also prevented you from moving normally, right?"

Ben nodded gently. His neck was no longer so flexible, so he had to move his whole body forward to do so.

He had tried Reed's device, and though it transformed him back into a regular human, it also allowed Victor Von Doom to steal his powers. Afterward, to help his friends, Ben accepted his flawed appearance once again, returning to his rocky form to stop Victor's rampage alongside his friends.

Though he had since resigned himself to living out his days in a stone body, the idea of regaining his humanity without losing his strength filled him with hope.

"My project is the opposite of Reed's," Miss Stark explained. "He tried to remove the powers, whereas I aim to merge them with your body perfectly. I'm working on stabilizing special powers without altering human physiology. I've even done a clinical trial with a subject who's achieved a perfect fusion with his sand-based abilities."

She thought of William Baker, who she had placed in the disaster management company's building materials division. He was like a living sand generator, providing top-quality sand for construction projects.

She was curious: if Ben Grimm achieved perfect fusion with his powers, could he endlessly generate stone and rock?

Ben stared at her, unsure whether to believe her. He barely knew her, though she seemed close to Reed and Susan and was likely trustworthy. Her actions spoke volumes—she was well-connected, wealthy, highly capable, and her network extended through the military, government, and business sectors.

"Bzzzzt—"

"Excuse me, I need to take this call. I'll be back in a minute."

Ben opened his mouth to speak, but Miss Stark's phone buzzed. Checking it, she gave him an apologetic smile before heading to a quiet corner of the bar to avoid being overheard.

"What's the status? Can you handle it?" Nick Fury's low voice came through, laced with tension. His patience seemed worn thin after days of anxious waiting.

S.H.I.E.L.D., with its vast resources, still couldn't handle the Star-Swarm on its own, and he was still weighing whether to recall Carol Danvers. But before reaching that decision, he wanted to see if Miss Stark could offer a solution.

"Everything's prepared, but the Star-Swarm's too far. We need it closer for the plan to work," Miss Stark replied.

"So why are you dealing with the DOD? That London incident wasn't small, and it took a lot of resources to clean up."

"Keeping options open. Why use the difficult solution if a simpler one's available?"

"The sandbox access you requested is granted. Take what you need, but try not to create too much chaos," Fury said, with his typical brevity.

Fury had finally relented on the sandbox—a high-security research base located in the Sahara Desert where S.H.I.E.L.D. stored unknown objects codenamed "0-8-4." These objects ranged from technological marvels to magical artifacts, and each was evaluated for containment or disposal depending on its risk level.

Miss Stark's curiosity about the sandbox had been longstanding. Her persistence had finally worn Fury down, and she now had her coveted access to investigate the unknown objects. While extortion might be frowned upon, if it achieved the goal, who cared about the means?

And with her sandbox clearance, she had effectively reached the highest clearance level. She could now command an entire S.H.I.E.L.D. base's personnel, if Fury approved.

Ending the call, Miss Stark returned to the bar. The bartender had set her champagne cocktail on the counter, and Miss Stark took a sip, shifting her gaze back to Ben Grimm.

She still hadn't given up on trying to sway him.

"In any case, if you'd like to trust me, when we're back in New York, come to Stark Tower and see me."

The power fusion stabilizer had proven its ability to neutralize the Extremis virus and even strengthened William Baker's imperfect fusion with his sand abilities. Miss Stark saw enormous potential in this unique formula.

Despite Ben Grimm's stone body being resistant to needles, Miss Stark was confident she could use radiation exposure as an alternative to injection, similar to the cosmic radiation storm that had altered their genes. Perhaps it could help him lead a normal life.

And if it didn't work? He would make an excellent research subject, potentially revealing the secrets of the cosmic storm itself.

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