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𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐘'𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐋
𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐗𝐓𝐎𝐍, 𝐎𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐀
ELEANOR
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The thing about life is that one day you'll be dead.
No matter how old or tough you are, it was bound to happen. Death was an omnipresence. It was an inevitability that no soul could evade. Never mind the care or have love to spare, you can't escape the clutches of death. Yet, Tony Stark was the living rendition of the phrase's reverse. He had tricked oblivion and it hadn't gone unnoticed. He had gone to the cusp of a departing void and returned.
He had successfully proved that immortality was attainable in individuals. Nevertheless, I could see the consequences come into play. The moment Tony had woken up from his death sleep, it had rolled off him like a foul odour.
The sheer panic that could influence a person was astounding. I knew Tony's panic, before this incident, was based on a conception he had created relating his misused wisdom. The situation back when a god had bred chaos over New York was his first evasion of death. This time was no different. Yet, similar. This was a secondary constituent that was coming to play every time a situation triggered his subconscious. And I ought to find out what it was.
In terms of medication, he was prescribed with copious amounts of rest to recuperate and arrange his newly imparted memory. By the end of the second day, he was warming up to conventional conversations and his thinking time reducing to null. Less of a machine and more human.
Tony's assets had returned to him, HAMMER supplanting gone void. Staff and aides-de-camp had started to pour back in, Stark International powering back to its usual vocation. All who had jumped ship had come back home, markets and business bustling once again. Pepper Potts face was splashed on the headlines, not a single paper failing to invoke Tony Stark's name in the superseding. With all the recovery, Osborn was revoked of his position as HAMMER corporation's chief and adjourned until further notice. All his assets had been liquidated, the funds relinquished to a welfare organization handled by Stark Industries.
I had finally gathered the courage to break the news to my mother about my surprise pregnancy. Having her wish granted, Madeline Preece was over the moon about being a grandmother. She had ordered me to come back home at once so she could see for herself and claimed to have booked the old chapel in town for the child's christening. I had ended the call asap.
