After a day of rest, Kurogai rose from his chair, his body finally relaxed after the endless battles of the past weeks. In that short time, Susan had already begun familiarizing herself with the work under Rogue's guidance. With Rogue's sharp instincts and Susan's growing resolve, the two were more than capable of managing the intelligence network. That knowledge gave Kurogai a measure of relief.

For the first time in days, he could breathe without feeling the constant pull of unfinished business.

He spent the morning reflecting on his recent gains. Wakanda had yielded more than just victory—it had given him the sixth Pupil Ring ability, one that allowed him to manifest a doppelgänger.

The clone, however, was imperfect. It wasn't a true autonomous body but rather an extension conjured through the sixth ring's technique, bound by limits. It couldn't stray far from him, nor act freely without his guidance. Worse, it could only channel the sixth ring's powers, not his full arsenal.

Still, even a flawed shadow could be useful. When Blackwood found himself in too many places at once, the doppelgänger could buy him time.

He muttered to himself, "A decent harvest… but this is nearly the limit of the sixth ring. I'll need to push further, and soon."

One last evolution remained—the Akame Laser. A direct, destructive power, similar in nature to Cyclops' optic blasts. The thought stirred a quiet anticipation in him.

But there was a problem. Vibranium, the perfect medium for harnessing such energy, had been all but stripped from Wakanda by his hand. While traces might exist in other corners of the world, the supply would be scarce at best. He needed alternatives.

"Rogue," he called.

She entered briskly, attentive as always. "What is it, Kurogai?"

"I need samples of every rare and unusual metal on Earth. Not in bulk, just enough for testing. And while you're at it, continue the search for scattered Vibranium. However little remains, I want it found."

Rogue nodded firmly. "Understood. I'll handle it."

He trusted her with this task. Rogue had a way of getting things done, and she wouldn't rest until she delivered.

With that matter in motion, Kurogai turned his attention to something else—an unresolved promise. Stark.

Tony had once given him a sword forged of pure Vibranium. In return, Kurogai had offered a single favor. Stark hadn't yet called upon it… until now. The man had already reached out, and Kurogai knew better than to ignore the Iron Man.

A flick of his hand tore space apart, revealing the inside of Stark's luxurious home. He stepped through, the portal folding shut behind him.

The villa was brightly lit, sleek and alive with modern design. As he entered, a calm, refined voice greeted him.

"Long time no see, Mr. Blackwood. Welcome."

Jarvis.

Kurogai's lips curved faintly. "It has been a while, Jarvis."

"Mr. Stark instructed me to notify him immediately upon your arrival. He is currently on his way back."

"That's fine." Kurogai paused, then asked casually, "Do you know why Stark wanted me here?"

"I can only tell you that it concerns energy," Jarvis replied. "Mr. Stark preferred to discuss the matter with you personally."

Energy. The word was enough to trigger Blackwood's deduction. His eyes narrowed slightly in thought.

Palladium.

In the original timeline, Tony Stark's arc reactor ran on the element, giving him life even as it poisoned him. Palladium leached into his bloodstream, spreading toxicity that no ordinary cure could stop. Alone, Stark had struggled. But this world was different. Here, Stark had someone like Kurogai to turn to.

It was clear now why Stark had summoned him. And it amused him. For Stark, the situation was a crisis. For Kurogai, it was child's play.

More than that—it tied directly into their past exchange. The solution involved creating a new element, one Kurogai already knew was possible. He had the knowledge to solve the poisoning and honor the debt he owed Stark in one move.

As his thoughts sharpened, a thunderous roar pierced the night. The sound rattled the villa's walls before something crashed through the ceiling, landing heavily in the living room.

The suit of Iron Man gleamed in the glow of the lights, metal hissing as servos adjusted. The helmet peeled back, and there stood Tony Stark, his usual swagger dulled by exhaustion but not erased.

He straightened, forcing a grin. "Well, well. Look who decided to drop by. Took you long enough, Blackwood."