Chapter 8: So Why Do Speedsters Always Arrive Late?

Bennett withdrew his arm, the black claws sliding free from the arc reactor's damaged housing with a wet, metallic sound.

Iron Man's body convulsed violently, the armor's systems sparking and crackling as electrical feedback surged through the suit's neural interface. The distinctive blue glow of the arc reactor flickered like a dying candle before dimming to barely perceptible levels.

"CRASH!"

The heavy armor plummeted to the ground like a dropped anvil, hitting the asphalt with enough force to crack the pavement beneath. The arc reactor's surface now bore a small but significant puncture wound, as if someone had taken an ice pick to it.

"Sir, arc reactor damaged. Energy leak detected," JARVIS announced with his characteristic understatement, though there was an unmistakable note of urgency in the AI's synthesized voice.

Bennett could hear JARVIS's warning even through the armor's external speakers, but Tony understood the severity of the situation far better than any diagnostic report could convey.

The arc reactor wasn't just the armor's power source—it was literally keeping him alive. The device was embedded directly in his chest cavity, using electromagnetic fields to prevent the shrapnel fragments in his body from migrating to his heart.

Bennett's violent strike had cracked the reactor's outer shell, which meant the situation was far more critical than it appeared on the surface. While the damage looked relatively minor—just some surface fractures that wouldn't cause complete power failure or stop the reactor from functioning—the real danger lay in what those cracks would allow to escape.

The puncture had compromised the reactor's containment systems, which meant palladium poisoning would accelerate dramatically!

Within seconds of the impact, Tony could already feel the toxic effects intensifying. His palladium poisoning symptoms, which had been slowly building for weeks, suddenly surged to dangerous levels.

Recognizing the immediate threat to Tony's survival, JARVIS automatically reduced the reactor's output to the minimum level necessary to sustain basic life functions, hoping to slow the rate of palladium leakage.

"Attempting to contact Ms. Potts," JARVIS announced.

"Don't!" Tony interrupted through gritted teeth, fighting off waves of nausea and dizziness caused by the rapidly increasing toxin levels.

He still had no idea what Bennett was or what his ultimate objectives might be. The last thing Tony wanted was to put Pepper in danger by involving her in this situation.

"Now let's see how much time you have left, Tony Stark," Bennett said with cold satisfaction, returning Tony's earlier taunt with compound interest.

Bennett had no intention of killing Iron Man—that would serve no useful purpose and would only bring unwanted attention from other heroes and government agencies. However, he was very interested in the Mark IV armor that Tony was currently wearing.

Maybe Grey Matter can reverse-engineer some useful technology from this.

Throughout history, most protagonists who found themselves transported to the Marvel universe seemed compelled to rob someone for resources, and their victims were usually small-time criminals with pathetically inadequate wallets. But Bennett had decided to aim higher—if you were going to steal, why not steal from someone who could afford the loss?

Besides, Tony had started this fight by interfering with Bennett's perfectly reasonable plan to prevent Uncle Ben's murder. If Stark wanted to play hero, he could pay the associated costs.

Bennett moved with blinding speed, his hands becoming mere blurs as he began systematically dismantling the Mark IV armor. Within moments, he had removed one of the suit's arms entirely, leaving Tony's organic limb exposed to the air.

"What are you doing?" Tony demanded, his voice rising with panic and claustrophobia.

With the armor's power systems offline, his field of vision was severely limited—like being trapped inside a metal coffin with only a narrow slot to see through. But he could feel one arm suddenly lose its protective casing, leaving him vulnerable and exposed.

The sensation was deeply unsettling, like being partially skinned alive.

"Time is money, Tony. You wasted several minutes of my evening, so I need to recover my losses somehow," Bennett explained matter-of-factly while continuing his violent disassembly process.

Soon, he had removed enough components to expose Tony's faceplate, and immediately regretted it.

"Ugh!" Bennett recoiled as a nauseating stench hit him like a physical blow, the smell so intense it seemed to change the color of the air around Tony's head. "You threw up inside your helmet? That's absolutely disgusting!"

He stared at the vomit-coated faceplate in his hands with the expression of someone who had just opened a container of spoiled food. Part of him wanted to throw the contaminated piece away immediately, but it was still valuable technology.

So instead, Bennett shook the helmet vigorously, flinging the disgusting contents back onto Tony's face with a wet splashing sound.

Tony took a deep breath and grimaced, his hair now plastered to his scalp with his own regurgitated breakfast.

"And whose fault do you think that is?" Tony asked with as much dignity as he could muster under the circumstances.

"Entirely yours," Bennett replied without hesitation, accelerating his dismantling process. "Remember, I warned you not to interfere. Now I'll have to sanitize this thing a hundred times and use an entire bottle of industrial degreaser!"

"I have a better suggestion—don't touch it at all," Tony said weakly.

"Shut up!" Bennett punctuated his command with a casual backhand that rattled Tony's teeth.

In less than half a minute, Bennett had completely stripped the Mark IV armor down to its component parts. Now he stood surrounded by a pile of technological components nearly as tall as himself, looking quite pleased with his work.

"I'd suggest calling your girlfriend for a ride," Bennett said helpfully, preparing to depart with his stolen goods. "Otherwise, you'll have to walk back to Stark Tower dressed like that. And tomorrow morning, you'll be front-page news on every tabloid in the city."

With those parting words, Bennett gathered up the disassembled armor and departed at high speed.

Remarkably, despite the tremendous velocity and the large number of loose components, not a single bolt or circuit board was lost during transport. This seemed to defy basic physics—the wind resistance and inertial forces should have scattered the smaller parts across several city blocks.

"Wait, XLR8 does have limited force field capabilities," Bennett realized mid-journey. "That's how speedsters in fiction can rescue people without accidentally cutting them in half with air friction. But this level of object manipulation seems more advanced than what I remember from the show."

Bennett quickly developed a theory to explain the enhanced ability.

"Unless XLR8 is somehow benefiting from Spider-Man's bioelectric field manipulation! Maybe I can use static electricity to hold all these metal components together!"

The thought that his alien transformations might be enhanced by his spider-based mutations was incredibly exciting. It suggested possibilities he hadn't even considered.

Unfortunately, he hadn't noticed any spider-sense activation during his fight with Tony, so the interaction between his different power sets was still unclear.

Bennett took a moment to scan the armor components for tracking devices, using XLR8's enhanced speed to attempt millions of possible security combinations in seconds. The entire inspection process took less than a minute.

Sure enough, he found a small tracking beacon hidden within one of the repulsor units.

After destroying the tracker, Bennett concealed the stolen armor in a secure location. Studying Stark technology would have to wait until he could transform into Grey Matter—there was no point rushing the analysis.

Right now, his priority was getting back to school before anyone noticed his absence.

Bennett spent exactly ten seconds traveling from the industrial district back to Midtown High, effortlessly avoiding every security camera and potential witness along the way. He slipped into a bathroom stall and waited through the final thirty seconds of his transformation time, emerging in human form just as the school bell rang to signal the start of fourth period.

Bennett sprinted through the hallways and burst into his classroom at the last possible moment.

"Perfect timing!" he announced triumphantly.

"Absolutely not, Bennett Parker!" his teacher replied with obvious irritation, pointing an accusing finger at him from behind her desk. "You're late!"

So why do speedsters always end up being late anyway?

300 powerstones for extra chapter.