In Stark Tower's lab, docunts and materials were piled high, necessitating JARVIS to equip his new body with a set of chanical arms to organize all these experintal materials.
Each set of chanical arms had four limbs, fixed to the shoulders and waist of JARVIS's chanical body. The upper arms worked in tandem with his hands to sort different docunts, while the lower arms stuffed them into various cabinets.
So experintal data were too complex for simple programmatic interpretation and required confidentiality, leaving JARVIS and Stark as the only ones capable of handling these tasks.
In the adjacent room, Otto was hamring the table in frustration, exclaiming, “If you distrust my technology, then why bother asking for my help?!”
“I’ll say it again, the tentacles can be directly integrated into the human nervous system without side effects, there’s no need to add another layer of ch armor!”
“Of course, I've reviewed your research materials, but I'm just not comfortable with mounting four large tentacles on my back. It's simply too ugly!” Stark retorted with raised voice.
“You must understand, my fans like Iron Man for the sleek, high-tech gear, not for ugly tentacles. I brought you here to solve problems, so please, just shut up and get to work, okay?”
Taking a deep breath, Otto recalled the string of zeros on the contract Pepper had given him. Shaking his head in resignation, he began to equip Stark's ch armor with chanical tentacles.
To further enhance his work efficiency, Stark felt the need to add a few more hands himself.
Often criticized as a capitalist exploiting his employees, Stark had to prove that he could be even tougher on himself.
He created a comprehensive life-support armor, powered by magical energy, allowing him to go without sleep for a week.
The relentless focus on his experints without sleep, food, or drink was also why his anxiety disorder had beco so severe.
This ti, he planned to add four chanical tentacles to his life-support armor, similar to Doctor Octopus.
Though he could command JARVIS to activate robots to assist in his work, their flexibility and tactile sensation could not match his own hands. If a neural connection could effectively give him the benefit of additional hands, it would be worthwhile.
After a half-day's work in the laboratory, Otto fine-tuned various models of chanical tentacles. Strange erged from a magical portal, preparing for the upcoming surgery.
Any neural connection surgery required an operation. After so technical advancents, Strange was trying less invasive, even external, neural connection surgeries.
Simply put, this involved using a special material to extend human nerves outside the body, making the use of various neural-connected external devices more convenient and less painful.
However, since this technology was still untested, it couldn't be used on Stark, who had to rely on traditional internal neural implants for tentacle control.
“I must warn you, neural connection surgery is risky. I've handed the risk notification book to JARVIS. But frankly, whether you sign it or not doesn't matter, because if the surgery fails, I'll activate the gem and we can do it all over again.”
“Also, Schiller will be here in ten minutes,” Strange glanced at his watch and corrected, “No, seven minutes. He's always punctual.”
“Wait, why is he coming?” Stark questioned, stepping backwards into his ch armor, which then enveloped his body.
Unlike other combat suits, his life-support ch armor was designed for extre lightness, almost imperceptible. Wearing it, Stark appeared to be in a tight combat suit, with chanical structures visible only at the joints.
Strange, placing a dical file aside, warned Stark, “I must remind you, external neural surgery is very painful, extrely so.”
“The most important thing is, you refuse anesthesia. I really don’t know how you...”
“Let’s not talk about it,” Stark dismissed, turning his head away. Otto interjected, “If you’re trying to prove your masculinity in such a childish way, then I must say, you should go back to college.”
Stark snorted, “Masculinity? I'm not as immature as that kid Peter. Don't you know? Any dose of anesthesia can damage the brain, a risk I cannot afford.”
“So, you didn’t use anesthesia when you were ssing with that thing in your chest??” Strange asked, sowhat impressed, “I have to acknowledge, you do have so guts.”
Stark paled slightly at the mory, mumbling, “Let’s not bring that up. I don’t want to rember.”
In life-threatening situations, one can push their limits, but the fear remains afterward. Stark's unstable ntal state was partly due to the shadows left by his past experiences in Afghanistan.
“Good morning, everyone,” Schiller entered the lab, holding a dical file and eyeing Stark, “I hear a big boy wanting to showcase his masculinity is here for a neural connection surgery without anesthesia?”
“Enough talk. My heart rate will be too high for surgery if this continues,” Stark inhaled deeply, “Soon, you'll see what real masculinity is.”
Ten minutes later, screams pierced New York's quiet skies.
“Ah!!!! Ahhhh!!!”
“Beep—beep—beep—”
"The alarm sounded." Schiller turned his head to look at the instrunt beside him, recording and speaking simultaneously, "Brainwave activity is also abnormal. Stop imdiately!"
Strange imdiately ceased his actions, removed his gloves, took out a gem, and with a flash of light, reversed ti to the mont before the surgery.
Stark, secured on the operating table, was gasping for breath, his head covered in cold sweat. Though the wound and blood had vanished, his mory remained unaltered; he was engulfed by an intense pain just monts ago.
Stark, with his upper body bare, propped himself up with one arm, sitting up from the operating table.
As Strange tidied the surgical tools, he glanced at Stark's back. Just monts ago, there was a window, neither large nor small. The wound was not deep, and the bleeding was minimal, but the process of nerve integration brought extre pain.
"I say, mate, how do you endure such pain???" Stark looked at Otto and said, "Even with anesthetics, it's beyond human tolerance."
Otto shook his head and replied, "Indeed, during the surgery, I woke up from pain seven or eight tis. But as it was intermittent, it wasn't so severe. If you don't use anesthetics at all, I can only wish you good luck."
Schiller then turned to Strange and asked, "What about having Professor X forcibly shut down his brain? Would that work?"
Strange shook his head, "It's hard to say, but it might affect the brain. His thoughts are too active, his brain activity far exceeds that of an ordinary person. If we suppress it forcibly..."
Without finishing his sentence, everyone present understood his conclusion. Schiller pondered and suggested, "What about borrowing a symbiote? It could directly block the pain."
The others fell silent, seemingly contemplating. Strange, stroking his chin, added, "It should work. These symbiotic organisms are miraculous, capable of controlling every cell in the human body..."
"But previously, the symbiotes all returned to their howorld... Wait, isn't there one symbiote that didn't leave?"
Schiller and Strange exchanged glances, while Stark, lying on the operating table, suddenly had a bad premonition.
"Rotten being, we et again!"
Venom's deep, raspy voice echoed in Stark's mind. Annoyed, he slamd his fist on the table and exclaid, "Get out of my head, you damned rotten mud!"
"Oh, oh, oh, let listen. Which little darling is it, unable to bear the pain, seeking their Venom daddy? Soon, I will record every change in your cells and inscribe it in my genetic catalog, telling the whole Space that Tony Stark is a crybaby afraid of pain! Hahaha!"
"Shut up, rotten mud! Should I tell the whole Space about your idiocy? Soon, I'll open a Portal, take a tour in Klyntar, and inform your kin that it takes you two hours to learn linear functions!"
Watching Stark sit in a daze, Strange, preparing the experintal tools, nudged Schiller with his shoulder and comnted, "I bet they're already arguing fiercely."
"This is good. Tony needs a change of mind," Schiller replied, glancing at Stark. "Don't you think he's been a bit obsessed lately?"
Strange also looked at Stark, speaking in a lower voice, "I've noticed he always lacks a sense of security. When things don't go well, he becos irritable. But when they do go well, he fears they will soon plumt."
"Like recently, with the Solar System construction plan progressing smoothly, yet he insists on straining his brain, not resting for a minute, afraid to stop."
"I asked him why he does this. He said, these people won't always unite. Since they are improving now, we must seize this opportunity."
Schiller paused his work, sighing, "In his view, good tis are always brief. Long-term depression, stagnation, and violence are the norm."
"I think it's deeply related to his father," Strange added solemnly. "It's like describing a drunkard. Sobriety is rare, mostly they're like rotten mud... I know this all too well."
"Yes, people who grow up in such circumstances often feel the need to accomplish everything in the quiet days, as there could always be a drunken brute bursting into their room at any mont, subjecting them to abuse and beatings. This is where their sense of insecurity stems from."
"Have you ever thought about treating this issue?" Strange looked up at Schiller and added, "Of course, I'm not saying you must do this, but if possible, it would be healthier for him."
"I tried before, but these personality traits have beco a part of his identity, and they are likely too deeply ingrained to remove."
"Wait, personality traits?" Strange turned his head towards Schiller and asked, "I rember you said that each character in your Temple of Thought's high tower represents a part of your personality traits, and you can control when these traits co out to work. How do you manage all this?"
Hearing this, Schiller paused his actions montarily but soon resud, his head bowed in silence, seemingly unwilling to answer the question. Seeing this, Strange did not press further.
After Venom possessed Stark, Strange resud the surgery without the need for an incision. Venom opened a tiny wound on Stark's back, implanted a neural connection device, and remotely connected it to the life-support ch armor.
Not only was the procedure painless, but the mont it connected, Stark felt as though he had gained additional, controllable arms. After confirming this, he connected the remaining two tentacles.
Stark, sitting on the operating table, shook his head and blinked hard, exclaiming, "This feeling is incredible, it's like... like I really have extra arms."
Otto, working on the ch armor's back, suggested, "Your experience would be even better if you didn't use this ch armor as an interdiary."
Instantly, the four tentacles twitched, one slapping Otto off balance. Stark apologized, "Oh, sorry, that wasn't intentional."
"Alright, let the most brilliant Venom see what strange contraption you've co up with... Tentacles?? If you wanted tentacles, why didn't you co to ?"
Venom snorted, and instantly, nurous black, slimy tentacles burst from Stark's back, each connected to his nerves and directly controllable by his brain.
"Listen, even if chanical tentacles are less useful, I would never resort to using your rotten sli!" Stark retorted loudly.
Ten minutes later, in the laboratory, Stark yelled, "You pile of rotten sli! I'll say it again! Don't ss around when I ask you to fetch materials!"
One of the black, slimy tentacles on Stark's back swiftly retracted, but another imdiately started rummaging through a docunt cabinet.
As Stark and the symbiote clashed, Schiller and Strange, having just organized the dical materials, entered the room. Stark continued his work, but his ears perked up.
He heard Schiller say, "I've co up with sothing amazing recently. Do you want to see it?"
"Sothing amazing?" Strange turned his head to look at Schiller and asked, "What is it? What could you possibly have that you'd call amazing?"
Stark, too, turned around curiously, only to see a ring of light suddenly illuminate above Schiller's head.
Stark and Strange drew closer to Schiller. Strange, taking the lead, waved his hand and said, "I thought it was sothing significant. It's just a magic light effect. I can do that too!"
After saying this, Strange snapped his fingers, and a ring of light appeared above his head, as he shook his head smugly at Schiller.
However, Schiller just smirked coldly. Under Stark and Strange's gaze, he reached out and effortlessly removed the light ring from his head.
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