Awakening Kryptonian Bloodline In Marvel.

A few days later.

The sky hung heavy with dark clouds. Rain fell steadily, turning the sea outside Stark's mansion into a shimmering patchwork of ripples.

In the underground garage,

Malrick stood in a tight-fitting sensor suit. Circular iron plates were fixed to key points across his body, each connected by induction wires to a massive testing machine.

"Are you sure this hunk of metal can measure my strength?" Malrick flexed his wrist skeptically.

Today was the day he and Tony had agreed to run full diagnostics on Malrick's strength and new abilities.

At the break of dawn, Tony had practically dragged him out of bed—eyes gleaming with excitement.

After a quick breakfast, they went straight down to the garage.

At the far end of the underground space, mounted on the wall facing the ocean, was a massive circular iron plate about three meters in diameter.

This was the strength tester.

"Why do you always ask questions like you're reading off a script?" Tony smirked, full of confidence.

He pointed toward the machine. "After you went off into space half a year ago, I had a feeling this day would come. So I started building this thing early. The materials? Custom tungsten alloy I synthesized myself—high density, high melting point, insanely wear-resistant."

"It won't deform even under a million tons. Tens of thousands of tons of impact? Nothing. This alloy is decades ahead of current materials. I could build next-gen aircraft carriers with it."

Tony tapped on the console with a flourish. "So don't worry. It's not going to break."

Malrick raised an eyebrow. "You know, Tony, that's exactly how you sounded when you challenged me to arm wrestle last week."

Tony looked momentarily flustered. "Different scenario. Just punch the thing with everything you've got and leave the data to me!"

"Not unless you suit up first," Malrick said flatly.

Tony groaned. "I'm standing ten meters away. When did you become so paranoid?"

"Armor. Now."

"Fine, fine! I'll wear it. Gotta keep our little princess happy."

The repulsors on Tony's wristbands glowed red.

Seconds later, a red-and-gold flight pod swooped into the garage and assembled around him—clamping into place as the Mark III armor.

It was a direct upgrade from older suits, designed using data Tony had secretly compiled on Malrick's physiology. It rivaled the Mark VII in function—minus the arc reactor built with new element tech.

Tony had also disabled the suit's internal liquid filtration system, just to annoy Malrick.

(It would probably come back to haunt him.)

"All right," Tony said, stretching inside the suit. "Let's see what you've got."

Malrick rolled his eyes. "I just hope this thing holds up better than your ego."

He walked toward the thick black alloy plate. Took a deep breath.

Suddenly, the air shifted.

Winds whipped around the basement as if the atmosphere itself sensed what was coming. Tony's eyes widened as papers, chairs, and cables fluttered around him.

Malrick took his stance—lowering into a squat, muscles coiling like a spring. For a moment, he looked less like a man and more like a living sculpture carved from stone.

Tony's instincts kicked in. "Wait a sec… something feels wrong—"

Malrick's eyes narrowed.

With a low grunt, he struck.

BOOM.

The sound was a missile blast right in Tony's ear. The entire garage shook like it had been sucker-punched by a war god.

The wind ripped through the room in a hurricane-force gust.

Tony was knocked off his feet, chairs flying around him like shrapnel. Debris smacked into his armor. He would've been tossed halfway to Malibu if Jarvis hadn't triggered the thrusters just in time.

And then—

Silence.

The blast faded after a few moments, leaving only the hiss of settling dust.

Tony staggered to his feet, shutting down the thrusters. "Agh—cough, cough—what the hell just happened?"

Across the room, Malrick exhaled slowly.

Whoosh.

Another gust blew through, gentler this time. It swept the debris into corners and cleared the air.

The basement came back into view… or what was left of it.

Tony stared.

The sleek, minimalist garage now looked like the aftermath of a bomb test in a war zone.

Everything was wrecked.

Glass shattered. Lights torn from the ceiling. Equipment mangled.

All the sports cars—gone.

Even the "indestructible" alloy tester was destroyed. A massive hole gaped where the machine used to be.

Through the hole, Tony could see the ocean, misty and dark beyond the crumbling wall.

"…My god."

---

Later that afternoon – outside Los Angeles.

They'd relocated to a grassy field, under a grey sky spitting rain.

Malrick, now in a plain shirt, pounded on a new iron testing pier.

"You said this thing could handle my strength!"

He scowled. "I didn't even go full force and it warped like a soda can. It fell into the sea! I had to dive in and fish it out myself."

"Come on, Malrick."

Tony stood fifty meters away, armored up, calibrating new readings through his HUD. "Even God wouldn't have predicted how insanely strong you'd gotten."

"You've only been in the sun for half a year. Your strength increase is exponential."

He scrolled through data. "Look, six months ago you spent three months in L.A. soaking up rays. You gained about 400 tons in that whole period."

"Jarvis and I modeled your expected output based on that trend—maybe 1,000 to 5,000 tons total force, Mach 5 tops."

"We were wrong. Way wrong."

"And hey, look at Smallville. Clark Kent couldn't even fly in high school, and he'd been under the sun his entire life."

Malrick paused, finger on his earpiece. "You actually watched that show?"

"Sure. It's a decent origin story. Captures Superman's growth and psyche pretty well."

"Though let's be real," Tony added, "even by the end, the guy didn't have your numbers."

Malrick nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe it's because I'm already an adult… or because the sun exposure in space is just more efficient?"

He flexed his fist and landed another blow on the tester.

"Alright, it's reset. Ready for the next round of testing."

---

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