Chapter Sixty-Two: The Iron Spider and the Orphan's Trust in the White Emperor City

“What will happen tonight?” Gwen asked anxiously, looking at Michael.

Seeing Gwen’s worry, Michael decided to tell her the truth.

“Ivan Vanko has turned Hammer’s Iron Man suit project into a plan for remote-controlled iron robots. That includes Rhodey’s War Machine. He’ll most likely use this opportunity to take revenge on Tony.”

Gwen knew all too well how deadly the Iron Man suits could be.

“Oh, that’s terrifying! We have to stop him, or even stop the whole expo. There are so many people on site—many could be hurt, or even killed.”

Michael placed a reassuring hand on Gwen’s arm, signaling her to calm down. “Gwen, do you think anyone would believe us before the conspiracy is exposed? Hammer won’t give up this expo—it’s his only chance to outshine Tony.”

“So what do we do?” Gwen asked, still worried.

Michael fell silent for a while, then said, “Let’s notify Mr. George and have him prepare for anything. Besides, things might not play out exactly as I fear.”

“Alright.” Gwen immediately informed George, then looked back at Michael.

“Michael, bring out your invention.”

Michael was a little speechless, but he still led her to the lab—after all, she was his beloved wife.

“This is the Iron Spider Armor, model zero-one.”

As the first pod door opened, internal lines swiftly retracted, revealing to Gwen a suit of spider-themed armor, primarily white in color.

The helmet featured an exaggerated windproof visor, covering almost half the face, with sharply contoured lips below. The slender frame conveyed a sense of muscular definition, and six long, striped appendages hung from the back, each marked with red lines.

“I prefer to call it the White Ghost, or the Ghost Spider. It has built-in optical camouflage for better concealment—though at night, it stands out a bit more.”

“The strips on the back are actually nanotech spider legs. When activated, they extend, and you can use them to assist your climbing, spear enemies like lances, fire lasers, or serve as flight thrusters.”

“When you clench your fists, two laser emitters appear at the wrists. Both hands and feet have magnetic-field ion cannons in the palms and soles, which can also be used as thrusters if necessary.”

“Strictly speaking, it’s only a prototype—I haven’t installed all the weapons yet. There are still so many ideas I want to try…”

“It’s enough,” Gwen interrupted, then added, “Didn’t you say you needed more time to study new energy sources?”

“Tony was pretty self-destructive a while back. He built one right in front of me, so I picked up the technique.”

Gwen pressed a switch, opening the glass cover, and teased, “So you learned by watching?”

“Call it the cycle of cause and effect. We’re heading out to save him, after all.” Michael shrugged helplessly. Sure enough, what goes around comes around.

“But remember, the suit can only last two hours in battle. At full power, it may not be enough—keep a close eye on the energy consumption.”

“I understand. But how do I get inside?” Gwen looked at Michael.

Michael replied, “Red Queen, register Gwen’s fingerprints, voice, and retina, and create an access card.”

“Yes, sir.”

In no time, the Red Queen scanned Gwen’s prints, voice, and eyes, and swiftly produced a crystal card.

As Gwen picked up the card, Michael explained, “This card isn’t just for armor access—it gets you into any part of the company. Don’t lose it.”

“I know,” Gwen replied indifferently. She wasn’t a child; she wouldn’t misplace something so important.

Michael pressed the suit’s belt, and the entire armor vanished, leaving only the belt behind.

“What happened? That’s incredible!” Gwen exclaimed in surprise.

“It’s spatial magic. I specifically consulted the Ancient One and borrowed a spatial artifact as a reference. All you need to do is wear the belt and insert your card—the suit will appear instantly.”

For portability, Michael’s first thought had been nanotechnology, like Tony’s transformation where a tug of the sleeve replaced his clothes with armor.

But upon research, Michael realized that even if you compress everything, nanotech still needs physical space. He guessed that Tony must have incorporated nanites into his clothing, making the armor part of his attire, thus enabling the transformation.

Yes, Tony transformed his clothes rather than simply changing them. He just turned his jacket into the Iron Man suit, like a magician’s trick.

You could see Tony pulling a string on his jacket to trigger the suit enveloping him. After being battered by Thanos on Titan, half of Tony’s suit vanished with the missing nanites, exposing his undershirt beneath the absent armor.

Relying solely on nanotech was too cumbersome, so Michael turned to spatial magic, storing the suit in an alternate dimension.

He recalled that Doctor Strange had also managed an instant transformation; clearly, the Sanctum housed similar equipment.

So, Michael sought out the Ancient One, partly to express his gratitude. When they met, the Ancient One was not surprised—she was simply glad to see Michael healthy again.

She already knew why he had come and had prepared a spatial belt for him in advance.

Michael felt a bit embarrassed; the Ancient One had helped him selflessly, and he felt it only right to reciprocate. He asked if there was anything he could do for her.

The Ancient One replied calmly, “If I die and Strange loses his way, help guide him.”

“Are you really planning to die?” Michael asked.

The Ancient One gazed out the window. “I’ve lived long enough. If I continue, the darkness may corrupt my heart.”

“What if something happens to Strange—or he refuses to become the next Sorcerer Supreme?”

“I’ve struggled in the twilight between light and darkness for too long—I’m tired. The oldest master in Kamar-Taj is barely over eighty. If not for waiting for a worthy successor, I should have died long ago.”

She turned to Michael and continued, “If my death can illuminate Strange’s path, then it’s worth it. That would bring me comfort. If not, then, Michael, you shall keep the Eye of Agamotto.”

Michael hadn’t expected the Ancient One to entrust him with such a legacy, like a ruler on their deathbed.

He thought of her as a truly admirable mentor, worthy of the respect she commanded.

But the Ancient One really wanted nothing else. Her only belief was to guard the Sanctum and find the next Sorcerer Supreme.

She was a true devotee of the light, having studied magic from childhood; her faith in white magic was etched deep in her soul. Yet to wait for her successor, she’d been forced to draw power from the Dark Dimension to extend her life—a torment to someone so committed to the light.

“Don’t be too sad. The true meaning of life isn’t simply living. Fearing death only empowers Dormammu. Life’s meaning isn’t found in self-fulfillment. Death gives life its true purpose. Only when your days are numbered can you truly understand what it means to live.”

Michael was speechless. He understood too well—for him, it had always been about wanting to live healthily.

The Ancient One’s words gave Michael clarity.

Perhaps, from the moment Gwen became Spider-Woman, there was no turning back for her.

And thus, the Iron Spider was born.