The night sea of Malibu was calm, but the air inside the Stark mansion had turned bone-chillingly cold.
Níðhöggr, having just returned from a decadent night with yet another blonde bombshell he’d picked up at the mall, opened the front door with his usual languid expression.
Behind him followed Ratatoskr, burdened with a mountain of shopping bags, grumbling through a mouthful of acorns.
"Hey, Nid. You really need to pace yourself. How many women are you going to cycle through in a single night? Is your stamina some kind of infinite-motion Arc Reactor?"
"A villain stays true to his instincts, you damn rat. And besides, my body is—"
Níðhöggr stopped mid-sentence.
The moment he stepped into the living room, the acrid scent of smoke, the metallic tang of blood, and the unmistakable stench of destruction assaulted his nostrils.
The floor-to-ceiling windows were shattered into a million glinting shards, and Tony's prized collection of classic cars had been reduced to heaps of scrap metal.
"What... is this?"
Níðhöggr’s crimson eyes narrowed with a flicker of cold fury.
He instinctively sprinted down toward the basement laboratory.
There, his Arc Reactor ripped violently from his chest, lay Tony Stark. He was pale, gasping for air, crawling across the cold floor in a desperate attempt to stay alive.
"Tony!!!"
Níðhöggr roared, rushing to the man's side. He hauled Tony’s upper body off the floor.
The body of the man he usually mocked as his 'personal wallet' was as cold as ice.
"Hey, snap out of it! Tin-man! Open your eyes!"
"Hey! Nid! Don't just scream at him, heal him! He's actually about to kick the bucket!"
Ratatoskr, having caught up, shouted in genuine shock.
Níðhöggr ground his teeth together.
He called himself a villain, but he had a zero-tolerance policy for anyone touching what belonged within his fences. Furthermore, Tony had become a decent drinking buddy—and a rather amusing human at that.
"Dammit... you dare touch my wallet?"
Níðhöggr placed his palm over Tony's hollow chest. Draconic mana began to condense at his fingertips.
Ordinarily, he should have fetched another machine, but Níðhöggr didn't have the luxury of time.
He activated one of his Authorities: 'Matter Creation.'
"I'll give you a mere fraction of my power. I’ll make it so you couldn't die even if you wanted to."
Golden mana flooded into the empty cavity in Tony’s chest.
Almost instantly, metallic elements in the air began to rearrange themselves. A 'Mana Arc Reactor,' far more sophisticated and radiant than anything Tony had ever built, formed in the gap.
"Haa—!"
Tony’s body bucked violently as he drew a sharp, ragged breath.
Life flooded back into his hazy eyes. As Níðhöggr’s mana circulated through his system, his bruises and internal hemorrhaging vanished in an instant.
"Nid...? You... how..."
"Are you with me? Now tell me—what fearless bastard did this!"
At Níðhöggr's demand, Tony clutched his chest with trembling hands before shouting urgently.
"Obadiah... it was Obadiah Stane! He took my reactor. And Pepper... Pepper’s in danger! He went to kill her!"
The moment the words left his mouth, the temperature in the room skyrocketed.
A crimson draconic aura shimmered around Níðhöggr like a heat haze. The decadent, bored expression was gone. In its place was the face of a cataclysmic dragon—a disaster incarnate come to end the world.
"Ratatoskr."
"Yeah, I'm listening."
"Stay here and clean up this dump. And if anyone so much as touches Tony’s assets, rip them to shreds."
"What? You want me to clean up this mess? Hey! I want to go and crack some skulls too!"
"That’s an order."
At the chill in Níðhöggr’s voice, Ratatoskr pouted and dropped the shopping bags onto the floor.
"Fine... dammit. But don’t you dare let that traitor die easily. You hear me?"
"Don't worry. I'm going to show him exactly what a real villain looks like."
Níðhöggr gestured toward Tony’s Mark 3 armor.
"Tin-man, suit up. We have a secretary to save."
Stark Industries HQ, Large Arc Reactor Rooftop.
Obadiah Stane sat encased within the massive 'Iron Monger' suit, a look of pure madness etched on his face.
He aimed the massive Gatling gun at the fleeing Pepper Potts.
"I'm sorry, Pepper. But this is just business."
Rat-tat-tat-tat!
Faster than the sound of gunfire, a red flash plummeted from the sky.
BOOM!
It wasn't the sound of steel meeting steel, but a roar that sounded like two planets colliding. As the smoke cleared, Iron Man emerged, his golden reactor glowing brilliantly, alongside a black-haired man floating effortlessly in the air—Níðhöggr.
"Tony? You’re alive?"
Obadiah’s voice crackled with bewilderment through the speakers.
But it was Níðhöggr, not Tony, who answered. He walked through the empty air, approaching Obadiah with a chilling calm.
"Hey, chrome-dome. Stealing someone's wallet is for petty thieves. You? You’ve overstepped the line."
"Who the hell are you? Stark’s new circus mercenary?"
"Me? I'm the greatest villain in the universe... someone whose name you aren't even worthy of speaking."
Níðhöggr closed the distance in the blink of an eye.
Iron Monger’s massive fist swung down at him, but Níðhöggr didn't move. No, he didn't need to move.
CLANG!
With his bare, human palm, Níðhöggr caught the colossal steel fist with ease.
The concrete beneath him buckled and sank under the pressure, but Níðhöggr’s arm didn't even tremble.
"You call yourself a villain with this pitiful weight? Don’t make me laugh."
Níðhöggr clenched his fist. Crimson mana spiraled around his knuckles.
"Get lost."
A single punch.
As Níðhöggr’s fist slammed into the Iron Monger's chest, the thick armor plating—hailed as the pinnacle of modern engineering—crumpled like wet tissue paper.
The Iron Monger’s massive bulk was sent hurtling across the roof, skidding to a halt as smoke poured from its ruined chassis.
"Tony, go comfort the crying lady. I’ll deal with this trash."
Níðhöggr seized the collar of Obadiah, who was desperately trying to crawl out of the hatch, paralyzed with terror.
"Wait, Nid! You’re not going to kill him, are you?"
As Tony cradled Pepper in his arms, Níðhöggr flashed a decadent, predatory smirk.
"Kill him? I told you, I'm a villain. Death is far too merciful a rest. I'm going to give him a 'punishment' that he'll never be able to erase."
Níðhöggr dragged Obadiah into the restroom of the nearby office floor. Obadiah screamed for his life, but Níðhöggr’s grip was as unyielding as molten iron.
Throwing Obadiah in front of the bathroom mirror, Níðhöggr forced the man to look him in the eyes.
"You won't be able to live, nor will you be allowed to die. Why? Because you are being personally punished by Níðhöggr, the universe's supreme villain."
A grotesque mana, a mixture of violet and neon pink, erupted from Níðhöggr’s hand. This wasn't simple physical destruction; it was the Authority of 'Mutation'—a power that twisted causality and flesh.
"That power and status you craved so much? You're going to use it in a very different way from now on."
Obadiah’s gravelly screams began to pitch higher, shifting into a woman’s delicate whimpers.
His heavy, masculine frame smoothed out into supple curves. His coarse skin transformed into silk-white porcelain. From his bald head, a waterfall of shimmering golden hair cascaded down his back.
In a matter of seconds, the hideous, bald old man was gone. In his place sat an breathtakingly beautiful blonde woman, looking like she could bewitch any man on the planet.
"Ah... Aaah...? What... what is this..."
Níðhöggr laughed coldly at 'her' as she covered her mouth in shock at the sound of her own voice.
He tore a rift in space, opening a portal that exuded a nauseatingly thick aura of hedonism and sin.
"This is the most infamous and brutal red-light district in the universe. There, in an immortal body that will never age, you will live out eternity fulfilling the desires of the masses you once looked down upon. This is my sentence for hurting my drinking buddy."
Without hesitation, Níðhöggr kicked the blonde Obadiah through the portal. The door snapped shut on her scream, and silence returned to the restroom.
Walking back onto the roof, Níðhöggr swept back his ruffled hair and approached Tony’s group.
On one side of the roof, Tony had stepped out of his armor and was holding Pepper tight, trying to calm her tremors. Pepper was buried in his chest, sobbing, while Tony stroked her hair and whispered gentle reassurances.
Watching the scene, a smirk tugged at the corner of Níðhöggr’s mouth.
It wasn't his usual despicable villainous grin. Somehow, it looked almost... satisfied.
"Tch. Hell of a view."
Níðhöggr pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it.
"Hey, Tin-man! Time to settle the tab. The rental fee for my Mana Reactor isn't cheap!"
Tony looked up at Níðhöggr’s mischievous shout. Their eyes met. Instead of words of thanks, Tony gave a simple, knowing nod. Níðhöggr blew out a puff of smoke and looked up at the night sky.
The first major uproar caused by the Dragon of Yggdrasil since landing on Earth had ended with a traitor sent to the ends of the universe.
But Níðhöggr's instincts told him this was only the beginning. There would be a long line of bastards trying to target his 'wallet' in the future.
"Well, whatever. The more money, the better."
Níðhöggr’s crimson eyes glowed with a depth that outshone the night sky.
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